Oh! Sweet Irony
by Eatmykimchi
Summary: Irony has a major problem: LIFE. Life seems not to like her very much. Maybe even less than that grumpy blond elf. Still, she likes life, especially HERS. And she will do whatever it takes to survive: steal, lie, betray, kill, run away, sell her body, it's ALL okay with her, she gave up on honour long ago. She was never rich enough to afford being a good person, anyway.
1. Dying as a tied up salami

**Chapter one: Dying as a tied up salami**

**Hey! Yes I am starting a third story while I am juggling with two other unfinished ones...either I have too much time on my hands, or I am a magician, I don't know.**

**Anyway~ here's another Legomance, with a different Legolas an the different kind of OC. The story takes place during the last Hobbit movie that I just watched and disliked (seriously who the hell let Michael Bay possess Peter Jackson during the filming?) **

**It starts when Legolas and Tauriel leave together to spy on the orcs.**

**CAREFUL, this OC will overuse Irony and sarcasm. Also the story will be M at some point.**

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><p>"The pretty one is opening her eyes." said Okra, the tall grey orc, "Done with your beauty sleep, elf?" he mocked as he took the blond elf's jaws between his thumb and index to raise his head and have a better look at his face.<p>

The elf groaned, as he slowly came back to himself.

"The pretty one? I am offended." complained Irony crossing her arms and pursing her lips angrily. "It's not even a 'she' it's a 'he'! How is he the pretty one?!" she grounded. Okra laughed as he turned to look at her. Suddenly, he stopped laughing and released the elf's head.

"Why isn't he dead?!" grounded Jagah. Irony had not seen him arrive and did not react when he grabbed her arm tightly. "You should have killed him!" he screamed.

"I heard him talk to his friend, the red head-" she groaned as the big orc's hand tightened harder. "He spoke of Azog. I think he might be the one Azog wants to kill. Azog said he was blond."

Jagah released her at once and smiled widely. "You surprise me again, human. Good thing I kept you alive." He approached the prisoner and squatted in front of him, so that their face would be at the same level. "So you are the princeling?" he asked the prisoner.

While gesticulating to free himself the elf barked something in a language Irony did not understand. But the Erkor had tied the knots and that was the one thing the dumb orc knew how to do well.

"What did you do with his friend?" Jagah asked Irony. She had sat down and helped herself too some meat. Her arm was red, blue and violet where he had grabbed her, but she tried not to think about the pain. It's not like reproaching their leader, for hurting her would do any good to any one.

"Dead." she replied. The elf's eyes grew wide in shock, then glared at her with wild fires. "I killed her before I knocked this one out." She pointed at the elf. "He assumed I was her, I think, and didn't even turn around when I arrived form behind. Or maybe he didn't hear me come, I don't know." she lied. With Krog's help, she had lured both elves into 'saving' her, and convinced them to separate to cover more field. The blond elf didn't expect one second that she would hit his head hard with a large rock as soon as they were left alone together. After all, a few minutes before, she had helped them kill an orc who had seemed to be her enemy, not her ally. "But he killed Krog." she lied again before the elf could sell her skin. She gave the mortal blow to Krog out of nowhere. It wasn't part of their plan, but things weren't going as they planned: AKA the elves were stronger than they were, so she changed the plan into a better one. One that included her living to see another day, however miserable it might be. Jagah made said nothing.

The elf was still glaring daggers at her. She threw him a sarcastic smile and went back to her food.

"You cheated us!" accused the elf, furious. So furious in fact that his pale skin was red on his face. His sudden screaming startled her, making her drop her meat. Okra, Erkor and Jagah all laughed at her. She sighed and wondered if she would ever have decent company in her life.

"Lesson number one: never trust strangers, Lemglas." she told him happily. That was his name right? No? Close enough. His name sounded equally stupid as what she had just called him, so it didn't matter.

"We'll bring him to Azog when he is back from war." said Jagah as he moved to lay near Erkor, around the fire.

Irony wanted to ask why they weren't going to this war all orcs had been called to join. But she didn't dare to ask. Asking questions to Jagah was never a good idea. She had learned that the hard way. Nope. She was curious, but would rather keep her mouth shut so that her head would stay on her shoulders. She liked her head there, where it belonged. And she liked herself breathing and living too.

Plus, them being the only ones around gave her the opportunity she had been waiting for...She pretended to sleep and waited for the orcs to close there eyes too. It didn't take them long, the day had been long and colder than the ones before.

Erkor and Okra snored, Jagah didn't. She wasn't sure the leader was asleep and decided that it would be better to start by him then. If she was careful and fast enough, Jagah would die before he could fight back, unable to make any noise and the two others wouldn't wake. That was if the prisoner didn't sound the alert. Though, since Erkor had gagged him for fear he would keep them awake all night, the sound of his voice was swallowed by the dirty piece of clothing stuffed in his mouth.

She stood up slowly, examining carefully everyone's face. Apart from the blue eyed elf, no one was looking at her. Grinning, she flicked the bird at the elf, purely to unnerve him and enjoy watching him be unable to do anything.

Then she walked to Jagah, silently, and bent down, holding her breath so he wouldn't feel its warmth on his thick skin. She detached the dagger hanging from her belt and moved it carefully under his neck. Before taking the plunge, she looked at his face, _for the last time_, she told herself. His glowing yellow eye as soon as her eyes found his face. She wasn't sure how things happened after that but once she was fully aware of her body, her right hand was wet with a warm liquid and Jagah could not speak. She had opened his throat. With his hand, he grabbed feebly her bloody hand in which was held the bloody dagger and looked at her in the eyes. He could not speak but Irony understood what his eyes were telling her. "_You will pay." S_he could hear him say it in her head.

She found herself paralysed with fear until the orc's cruel smile calling for revenge disappeared and he ceased to breathe. His eyes didn't close though, and kept speaking to her about a vengeance soon to come.

The elf started gesticulating frantically. Irony supposed he was fearing for his life. But if he kept moving like this, Okra who was laying far from him would wake and _her_ life would be endangered. That, she couldn't let happen. She pointed the knife at elf to threaten him, and motioned for him to make no noise by raising her index in front of her mouth. Surprisingly, he did as she asked. Then again, he didn't have much of a choice. Either he shut up and bought himself sometime or she killed him right away.

She took a deep but quiet breath before making her way to Erkor who laid not so far from Jagah. It was a miracle the smell of fresh blood hadn't awakened him. She hurried to slit his throat and he died without even seeing his murderer's face. Okra she killed making sure that he would see her face. Four years, she had been more or less captive in this group, four years he had been nothing else but an ass to her. "Human, give me your cover"; "Human, carry that", "Human, kill them", and what she hated hearing more: "Human, why aren't you more attractive?". As if she had chosen to have a forever broken nose! _He _had broken it! Before it had been broken, she wasn't exactly beautiful... since then, she hadn't dared to look at her reflect! She imagined her face was ruined with fatigue, dirt, and an ugly nose!

After gaping for air that would not come, the last orc died. Irony's body relaxed and she smiled to herself. She was free. "Fina-fucking-ly!" she exclaimed feeling triumphant. How many times she had dreamed that moment would come and she would be free to go back to being nobody with other nobodies! Then she remembered the prisoner and growled. What was she supposed to do with him? His friend was probably looking for him by now...

She stood in front of him and smiled. He seemed to be more angry than scared. She would be full of rage too if she was to die tied up like a salami. She lowered herself towards him. His blue eyes trembled, and he tried to speak, but the gag ate his words. She took the piece of clothing out of his mouth so he could express himself.

"What type of person kills his friends?" he spat. She rolled her eyes and sighed. That blond elf seemed to be judgemental in addition to holding hollow grudges and being naive. She forced the gag back in his mouth, not wanting her moment of glory to be ruined by his mood.

"Lesson number two: don't ever trust any one, elf." she told him. She then placed the knife under his throat. Seemingly resigned to die with the little dignity he had left and his apparent huge ego, the elf closed his eyes and raised his head to give her better access.

_As if you were choosing for this to happen,_she thought wanting to slap him. She did not slap him though. Instead she cut the ropes that curled around his feet and hands to set him free.

He was so surprised he did not move for a while and kept the dirty rag in his mouth. Then his face distorted itself in a grimace and disgusted, he spat the tissue out of his mouth and coughed for a while.

"Why did you-"

"I have no business killing elves." she answered shrugging. She did kill, sometimes, when she had to, when her well being was on the stake, and for money, once or twice, but she wasn't much of a killer. She wasn't strong enough to fight orcs and strong men, but she was quick to react and smart enough to talk her way out of a death sentence. Bless the god who gave her a mouth to speak, and words to convince. Also, she was thankful for the vagina and the breast, even if she didn't have much of it, it was always useful to bargain."Also if Azog want you dead, I most definitely want you alive. Knowing that scum like him is displeased is what live for." she joked. She extended him a friendly hand that he reluctantly took before pulled hard on it, bringing her down to him. She heard "Never trust stranger, human." then everything went black.

When she opened her eyes, her hands were tied behind her back and her head hurt like a drunk bitch. "So much for freedom." she muttered before laughing at the irony of life.


	2. The sentimental value of my ASS

**The sentimental value of my Ass**

"Wow, wow, wow, wait," Irony cut Tauriel, who she found quite friendly despite the fact that she was pushing her with her foot every once in a while so she would walk faster. "You're telling me that they are five armies, fighting down there, that you two _want_ to go down there,_ and_ that the elves are fighting for jewels?JEWELS?!" Irony made sure to use her 'are you dumb' tone. It seemed to work for the blond elf possibly cursed, and the red head frowned.

"When you put it like that.." started the redhead looking at her prince for help finishing this sentence. The blond elf's face relaxed immediately when Tauriel's eyes met his. Irony did not fail to notice it. She did not fail to notice that it made the redhead uncomfortable either.

"The white gems we want have a significant sentimental value." offered Legolas, almost nicely, looking down at her, from the height of his horse.

"My ass has a significant sentimental value." started Irony, pulling hard on her ropes so that the elves would be forced to stop the horse, with success. "But it's not going to have any value at all soon, if I die in a war I have NO business taking part in." she growled, not caring about the glares she had earned herself. " Plus without me, you could gallop there, instead on making the horse walk by my side while you two mount it. You don't need me." she said looking at Tauriel who seemed more inclined to listen. "You don't like me." She told Legolas. " And I am slowing you down."

At that the elves exchanged a glance the best they could despite being one in front of the other on the horse. Then they started speaking in a tongue she could not understand. Or maybe they were singing? She didn't know, but since the elves went to war for necklaces and such, maybe they communicated by singing. As long as they set her free she didn't care.

But after what sounded like a song, the blond elf cursed again, in the common tongue this time, but with an accent so thick she could not understand the word, then got off the horse, grabbed her and put her on the beast, before jumping on it again.

"Greeeeaaaat." Irony sighed. "_Elves have no sense of logic._ And Tauriel, is not into you princeling."

She felt both of the elves stiffened at her comment, and Irony felt proud for making them uncomfortable. It was the least she could do, after all they were bringing her somewhere to die. She wished she had never never freed the elf. She could have been so far away from there, by now. But no, he was bringing her where the orcs were. Some might even recognise her. Hell.

"The logic behind your captivity, is that you must answer for your crimes." answered the prince. It startled her that the elf understood the dark speech.

"What crimes?" she yelled. "I saved your life!"

"After putting it in danger."

"I don't recall asking you to come and explore orcs infested lands!" she snapped. The blond elf angrily sang something to Tauriel, who then gagged Irony with a piece of clothe. She would have bitten the she-elf if she wasn't aware that it was the male one she angry at.

The road was long, painful and uncomfortable. But at least,s he was not half dead like the horse. Though, seeing the chaos in front of them she guessed she would soon be _fully_ dead.

The awkward couple led her through half destroyed buildings, in a haste, killing orcs on their way. Somehow, in the action, a sword undid her ties, and thanks to the orcs attracting all of the elves attention, she was able to escape. But she soon regretted her flee for she was unarmed, surrounded by foes and lost in labyrinth like buildings.

She looked left. One orc. She looked right. Two orcs. She looked in front of her, another orc. And behind her, she could feel a wall. And thankfully, the small hole in it. She didn't wait for the for the ugly creatures to jump on her to plunge through the tiny hole in the wall. It brought her directly in front of Legolas who was lowering some other blond elf's sword, that was pointed at Tauriel. Every one was angry and when they brought their eyes upon her, she wished she hadn't jumped through the hole. She wasn't sure why she was ceased, and her bracelet ripped of her arm and showed to the blond elf in full armour. He seemed grumpier that Legolas.

"How did you come upon this?" asked one of her captors.

"It was given to me. An orc, gave it to me." she lied. Every one eyes narrowed on her making her feel like a target's centre during a bow shooting practice. "Keep it, if you like it so much!" she exclaimed, suddenly feeling angry as well. "Just take it and let me go!" She struggled against the elves strong grips but they didn't flinch. So she pointed in a random direction and screamed as if she was dying. All the elves, including the ones who held her still, instinctively used both hands to grab their weapons.

She took off, after Tauriel who had also used the distraction to run away.

"Why did you leave?" murmured Irony, to Tauriel, while they hid behind a wall, to avoid the other elves.

"Why are you following me?"answered the she elf.

"Because being with you makes my chances of surviving _this_ higher. In case you haven't noticed, I am not a warrior with an unnatural strength! I don't even have a weapon to fight!" Tauriel shifted, annoyed at the sudden responsibility, but did not flee from it. Instead she grabbed Irony's hand and started running again.

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><p><em>'Because being with you makes my chances of surviving this higher.'<em> she remembered telling Tauriel about an hour ago. '_Never have I ever been so **wrong**.'_

"KILI!" screamed Tauriel between two kicks. "KILI!" Irony wanted to help the elf, but did not know how. She also wanted to keep on living and Tauriel screaming did not help with that since she attracted opponents by screaming. Opponents among which a huge one she recognise on the spot. "KILI!" Tauriel screamed again. _Okay, that's it,_ thought Irony, before discretely leaving the spot where she was standing and taking stairs that lead somewhere else. It was better that way. She could not help with the fighting anyway. No, really, it was better like this.

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><p>"TAURIEL!" shouted a dwarf between two punches. Irony cursed. How could she be so unlucky? Stumbling upon the only two people literally screaming for death to come to them. She cursed again when she saw a third orc launching himself at the dwarf, who she guessed was Kili. The dwarf had both his hands full already. She looked around. Ice. Ice. More Ice. Nothing else.<p>

She sighed and ran as fast as she could, and when she was close enough, she let herself fell and the slide on the ice, to violently meet the running orc's legs, making him fall. Not loosing her temper, she stood quickly, grabbed the weapon the foul creature had let go of and clumsily tried to chop it's head off. Only, the first hit detached half of his neck from the body and the orc suffered during another long minute, before she could fully separate it's head from the rest.

When she turned, Kili had killed the others and stared at her questioningly.

"Tauriel-" Irony started, panting. She pointed the ice tunnel from which she had come from, "that way." she finished. The dwarf ran through it as fast as he could manage on his short legs. Irony stood there, amazed for a long moment. _A dwarf running to his death for an elf?_ She shook her head. And started walking in the opposite direction. She mustn't let herself be distracted, not now.

Then she heard it. A piercing female scream. Full of despair, and pain, and sadness. _Tauriel!_ Irony could turn back, she was still close enough...but she did not go back, and left any regret she could have had where on the ice she was standing. If Kili and Tauriel could not kill Azog, there was nothing she could. No need for her to die with them.

She ran. As fas as she could and as far as she could until there was no one around her. Or at least, no one who was still _alive_. The dead were numerous, scattered on the muddy ground and dirty with both dry and wet blood.

Irony inspected the cadavers. She found a dwarven sword that would fit her hand better than the huge orcish one she still held, she stole some elven jewels she planned on selling later to have some coins, and put on a large dirty rag taken from a dead orc to hide her face and body under.

Behind her, Dale was almost burnt to the ground, the armies were dying fast a the hands of one another and the sky was black with bats bigger than she was.

War was no place for her. She had, yet, to see the world and discovers its secret now that she was finally given another occasion to. She just hoped, this time, her luck would last longer than the last time.

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><p><span><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**AWWW. Writing this is killing my head x) I feel so bad for participating to the destruction of Middle Earth's history and characters...**

**ANYWAYYYY as you might have guessed by now, I am trying to write this fic _entirely_ from Irony's point of view. So basically what she doesn't know, understands, guesses, sees, hears, you don't either! And it is entirely possible that I try to send you off track through her eyes, by her misinterpreting or misunderstanding what is said/done in the future..or have I already started doing it? Guess you'll find out later :D**

**Also the updates will be random...I plan on posting as soon as I write so you may have three chapters in a row then nothing for a month or so. But I will write it to the end, no matter how long that takes!**


	3. Roasted Rangers

**Roasted Rangers**

"I could do things to you, no other women could." she murmured in the peasant's ear, so low, even the other women sitting in the carriage could not hear what she was saying. He was in his late thirties, uglier than a tic and dirtier than a pig's ass. _A woman must do what she must,_ Irony kept telling herself as she gently rubbed her body against his. "But, I could only do it all if you untie me. You see, the magic is to be done with my hands...and feet."

"Yo'r feet?!" he exclaimed, too loud for Irony's liking. But the man leading the carriage outside did no seem to have heard. "And what's it you'd do with those stinky two?" he asked looking at her feet. His accent was thick and the fact that he missed teeth was not making understanding him easier. Still, it wasn't the first time she had to deal with his kind.

"If I told you it wouldn't be magic any more, would it?" she told him smiling as seductively as she could despite the circumstances. Her wrists and ankles were burned where the ropes were tied; the carriage was so full that her and the other women meant to be sold as slaves or whores, sat on on another; there was no opening apart from the tightly shut door and since they were only let out once a day to do their water, some had pissed themselves, stinking the whole room with fear and urine.

The peasant seemed hesitant. He inspected her from head to toes. Especially toes, obviously trying to figure what she could do to him with her feet that would pleasure him so, as she claimed. He put a hand on one of her thighs and squeezed it a little as if to make sure she was one made of flesh and not one made of bones and skin.

"O'ly the feet then" he muttered, before finally, starting to undo her knots. She kept her cool on the outside, although, on the inside, she was panicking: she had counted on him to untie her hands too. "Show the sier them magic tricks of yo'rs then" he ordered.

Irony, spread her legs, being thankful that they hadn't forced her into a dress and was still wearing her pants. "Well, for it to work, you have to kneel, between my legs, and put each one of my thighs on each one of your shoulders."

The man growled unhappily. "This sier ain't eating no dirty hoe's cunt." he said pulling hard on her hair, making her groan.

"There will be no 'eating'." she promised. He released her, and only half convinced, he knelt between her legs. Irony swallowed hard, wandering if she actually had enough strength in her thighs to strangle him. Was that even possible?

"MOVE!" one of the men leading the carriage screamed, caching the kneeling peasant's attention. "We, merchants don't have all day for folks like yo'." Irony could not hear what the person who had stopped the carriage said, nor even see who it was. But she old herself that if she found out who they were, she would thank them warmly for the trouble they were causing made the man she wasn't sure she could kill stand up and leave he carriage, forgetting to close the door behind him, forgetting he had untied her feet.

As soon as she could not see him any more, Irony jumped out of the carriage and ran, ignoring the other women's calls for help. Their pleading and whining caused their captors to notice Irony was running away, and she could hear them shout at her to stop running. But she did not. She glanced behind to see how far from her they were, and reassured, she looked front again only to hit a hard tree. A tree with branches like arms that immobilized her. She opened her eyes and looked up.

"YOU!?" she shouted a the same time as the elf who was holding her. Lemghu-something. The grumpy blond one, who had a thing for the redhead who loved a dwarf, she had escaped from no more than a fortnights ago. A fortnights ago, and only four days before she was attacked, de-possessed of everything she had stolen and labelled as a soon to be whore. "SHIT!" she cursed. The elf was not looking at her friendlily. He wouldn't help.

"Ah!" exclaimed the peasant that had knelt between her legs. "Not so magic tho' feet of yo'rs, he?" He laughed. Then held his hand towards the elf to ask for his prisoner. Irony looked at the fair creature's face, with eyes full of fear. But his eyes were as cold as ice, and before she could beg him for help, he had thrown her in the almost toothless merchant's arms, and she was being dragged back to the carriage. _'Why would he help? I let the redhead and her dwarf die without even trying to help...'_

"DON'T DO IT FOR ME! DO IT FOR THE OTHERS!" she screamed at the blond male, who had turned and was walking away. He stopped. Then started walking again. Irony would have cried if the merchants wouldn't have found it satisfactory. Along with the elf, she could see her life as a free being walking away...and the raping and beating that would follow her attempt at fleeing.

The elf jumped in a tree and disappeared from her view. She bit her lips and tried to protect herself the best she could when she was being laid down forcefully in the carriage, before the peasant forced open her legs then fell. _Fell?!_ HE FELL?!

She sat up and looked at he man on the floor. Or rather at the corpse. An arrow pierced his skull, entering it in the exact centre of his forehead to come back out on the other side. He hadn't even had the time to be scared. But the four other certainly were scared now. And the captives too. And Irony too.

Irony stood searching for the new assailants but saw no one. The women were screaming and crying. She looked at them wanting to say something, but not knowing what danger they were facing, she just jumped in the carriage and closed the door behind her, foolishly hoping no one would think about looking inside despite the noise.

During a long moment she heard nothing but the three other merchants threatening the invisible danger then all of sudden nothing. No more sound. They weren't screaming any more. She could not even hear them move. She would have looked outside if she had been born brave, but she was born a coward, so she did not move.

Unexpectedly, the door shut open! She jumped back, too scared to scream, like all the other women. It took her long minutes to recognise the elf. By the time she had calmed down enough to regain control of her shaky body, he had already freed four of the other captives.

Irony made her way to him and held her hands in front of him for him to cut the ropes. As soon as his eyes reached her face, she felt the temperature go down.

"You will go last." he said, sounding angry, before pushing her to the side not too roughly, so that he others could come front.

He freed hem one by one, being careful not to hurt them, noticed Irony, and even generously comforted those who had lost half of their mind after their misadventures in the carriage and with the five men. And none of them waited for the others to leave, in any direction, seemingly not caring where they were going, nor if they were lost, as long as they could go far away from the carriage of misfortune and mistreatment.

When no one was left but her, she held her hands towards him again.

"No." he said. All of sudden, his warm smile was gone and the light of his face had grown dark again. "You stay tied up. I won't trust a woman who accept gifts from orcs and leave elves to die."

"Trust?" she exclaimed, jerking her head back. "You just killed five men. I can't even kill one!" she pointed out. "You can kill me as easily as I can crush cockroaches! What do you need to trust me for?!"

" You killed four strong grey orcs in front of me." he reminded her.

"Three of them were sleeping, and the fourth was too busy fighting you! Your welcome by the way for saving you from Azog by having freed you before he could put a hand on you, and for preventing your Tauriel from ever being caught Jagah." she threw a him. He didn't scare her. If he had wanted her dead, she would already be dead, she guessed. Also he might have been distant and disdainful, but he was no where near as frightening as the slave sellers, and as innocent as a virgin maid compared to Jagah.

"You must mean Bolg." he corrected. Irony rolled her eyes. _Azog, Bolg, they're all the same to me_. "You saved me from nothing, I killed Bolg myself." She saw a freezing fire burn in his eyes when he mentioned the orc. "And you left Tauriel and-" he stopped, but started again, fast "and the dwarf," the words sounded like they had a bitter taste in his mouth "to die." The elf put one of his strong hands around her neck and tightened his grip around it.

Irony did not even try to move, and instead glared a him. Fighting? What for? If he has changed his mind and wanted her dead now, he would have her dead, and she knew very well that whatever she could do, wouldn't be enough to change the fact that she was going to die.

As she looked at his grimacing face, she realised that although he was looking right back at her, he did not see her at all. He was just staring in her direction, a touch of cruelty in the blue of his eyes, and a lot of determination. But he eventually released her neck, allowing her to breathe.

"I am sorry she died." she exhaled. It was half a lie. She was sorry for the redhead, but on a personally, she couldn't care less. It's not like they had known each other. If she was given the choice to leave or try to save her again, Irony would abandon the she-elf twice faster, this time, hoping to arrive on the main road long before the merchants did, so that she would have had the time to think twice about what she was doing then. "But do me a favour, you want.." she started as she caught her breath, "Decide _now_ if you wan me dead or alive... I hate the wait.. and want nothing else than to leave..."

"Tauriel did not die." he offered, looking away. There was a moment of silence, during which the elf seemed thoughtful."You will live" he finally said.

"Wha-"

"The bracelet you had. It is a known elvish jewel. One that was given to a female mortal. I want you to take me where the orc who gave it to you found it."

Irony stared at him for while. _What?!WHAT?!WHAT?!WHAT?!_

"I have no idea were he found it. And actually, he never gave it to me...I sort of borrowed it... for an undetermined lapse of time... from his dead body..." The elf looked annoyed. She could see the muscles in his jaw contract with anger again. "But maybe, if you can tell me about the woman who had had it before- _maybe_ I heard of her from the orcs..." That seemed to calm him down a little.

"Her name is Gilraen."

He stared at er expectantly. She stared at him stupidly.

"Gilraen?" she asked after the long moment of uncomfortable staring. "You mean.. the dead King of Gondor's wife?" He nodded. "I heard she died too." she shrugged. He frowned. "Maybe she isn't dead- I don't know." she hurried to add. He cursed in his tongue. "What do you need her for?"

"Nothing." he spat. "You can leave." he said before turning to walk away. She watched him go. She wanted him to cut the roped that tied her wrists and made them bleed, but she wanted him gone even more. However he stopped and turned to her again. She would have grimaced, but she did not want him to change his mind about letting her live _and_ leave. " Have you ever heard the name Strider?"

"The grim ranger dude ?" she answered almost instinctively and immediately regretted saying. The elf came closer and pulled on the extra rope that linked her wrists so that she would stand.

"Where can he be found?." he asked authoritatively.

"I don-" she stopped. "I don't know if he will be there, but I heard he likes to rest at Bree between his 'ranging'." she lied. She had no idea where the man was. Nor had she ever seen him. She had only heard rumours about a grim ranger going by this name, who spoke a perfect elvish. Until now, she had thought the man wasn't real...Seriously, what human could be so acquainted to elves that he could speak their tongue? A made up one, that's who. But she wanted to go to Bree, where it was _safer_ than most other places and easier to earn bread and coins. But the long road was dangerous, and the elf was strong and she was not. '_He might be an ass, but he is an ass able to kick other asses, and avoid mine to be taken.' _

"Why Bree?" The fair creature sounded suspicious. She would have sighed but it would make her behaviour _more_ suspicious.

"It's far from any place where orcs dwell. And rangers don't like orcs. " she replied as naturally as she could. And she knew she was convincing. " Although...orcs like rangers quite a lot...once they have been roasted."

He grimaced, probably disgusted by the thought of eating human flesh. "Could your eyes recognize him?"

"Of course." – _If I had ever set them on him!_

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><p><strong>It's decided! This story is set right at the end of BOFA but is non canonical! And because of the movie I'll be changing some stuff from middle earth history for the sake of the fic but nothing that will make you go "OMG!Blasphemy!" I hope x)<strong>


	4. Truth is a slut

**Truth is a slut**

Irony sighed and resolved herself to stop trying to undo her ties. The rope was thick, dry and strong and no matter how hard she tried to ruin it with hardened pieces of woods or her teeth, it was to no avail and the elf who's name she couldn't pronounce without giggling, and actually couldn't pronounce ignored her every time she asked him to free her wrists. Her wrists, by know were infected and around them, the blood was never dry for long for the rope was tight and rubbed the same spots over and over until the burning cuts reopened. Her saviour and captor believed the cuts were only bruises that would heal soon. But Irony could smell it get infected. And it wasn't a smell she fancied.

She trotted to catch up with the elf who's legs were long and moved quickly. "Why do you like me tied up so much ? It's not like I could outrun you..."

"There is no moment, in which I _like_ you." he said, not even bothering to look at her. "Every aspect of you disgust me." That time he made sure to throw her a disdainful glance.

"Ooh!" she screamed as if hurt badly, bringing both hands to her heart, "If I hadn't been unwashed for the past days I would have been offended. But since I am dirty beyond words and disgust myself for the time being, I will not answer to your provocation." She trotted a little more to walk ahead. She could feel his blue eyes piercing her skull. She knew elves were creature of light, of good nature, yet she could bet on her life that when the very day she will die, this one would come to dance merrily on her grave. She chuckled at the idea of Lemgonas dancing and wondered if he ever was merry. _Can he even smile? I bet he doesn't know the word!_

After a while of walking, in silence, and avoiding to turn back to look at the elf's ever frowning face he spoke, without having been asked a question first.

"Why did you leave her to die?" He stopped walking. "Left like a coward?... Even the dwarf stayed..."

"Because _**I **_was not in love with her." she answered immediately, not really caring. She had hoped they were done talking about that. "Nor with the dwarf." she added. "And also because I_ am_ a coward!" she exclaimed, stating the obvious. "What's _your_ excuse for not having been there?" Irony saw his eyes darken. With regret? She could not tell. "Could it be that you were waiting for the dwarf to die so you could make an entrance and save the damsel ?" She raised a brow, expecting an answer. Or a punch.

The elf said nothing for a while and just glared at her, waiting for an answer to come to him. "I was fighting for her not to be banished." he managed to mutter between his clenching teeth.

Irony laughed. "If you think that, you are lying to yourself." she told him. "'More like you were fighting for her _not_ to be able to leave with the short one." Once more the elf was silent and staring at her dangerously. She knew she had hit the truth. Whenever she found it, people made that face, the one that looked like denial and anger at the same time. Truth was always a slut, she knew. Truth covered you with sweet words and slept with others in your back before slipping arsenic in you food and drinks. "Don't glare at me, I saw the way you looked at her. You wanted her for yourself, and still do. It's written all over your pretty elf face, Lengomlas."

He walked past her, briskly. She could not see his face any more.

"It's Legolas." he corrected not looking at her.

"Laehgolas." she tried to say.

"Legolas." he repeated again, annoyed.

"Lengolas." she tried again and failed again. Though, she was almost certain that this time, she had pronounced it right.

"LE-GO-LAS" he yelled, turning to her. She could see he was still angry from the talk the had just had, and her massacring his name was not helping.

Irony shrugged."...Whatever...you haven't even bothered to ask _my_ name, why should I care about saying yours right?"

* * *

><p>The night had fallen on them again. By now, Irony was almost certain they were lost. They had avoided the main road to stay off trouble, and dug into the forest. And it grew wilder with every step, and the trees were all the same. She had asked the elf if he knew where they were but he had ignored her then jumped up a tree and disappeared for a few minutes, to do elvish things she guessed. Maybe speak to a tree or eat a squirrel, who knows...<p>

Now they had set camp, because she could not walk any more and needed to sleep. The elf didn't seem tired at all. And what she liked to think was 'camp' was her crawling under a tree's large roots, to hid, be hid and be difficult to reach while being able to see her surrounding. Legolas was just sitting on a branch, out for every one to see. He seemed to like it up there. Irony wondered if he would fell and break his neck if he slept up there. Did elves even slept? She had never seen him sleep so far. Maybe she just always fell asleep before he did and always woke up after he did.

"About Bolg," she said loud enough for him to hear, "did you make sure he was dead? Did you check the body?"

"I killed the filth with my own hands, with his own dagger." he spat. Irony noted that Bolg was yet _another_ sensitive subject. She wondered how she could have mistaken Bolg The Monstrous for Azog the Great White. They only looked alike in that they both had wanted her dead when Jagah had introduced her to other orc groups. "I cracked his skull with it, before the bridge scrambled down, under him." he added.

"So you did not check the body?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"I doubt there was a body left to be seen." He sounded almost amused. Or maybe it was pride she was hearing. From where she was she could not see him, nor him her, but she heard him switch position. "What is it to you ?" asked Legolas, threateningly. If she cracked a joke about being an orc lover, he would probably kill her on the spot.

"Rule n°3 elf: no _body_, no dead." she told him. Jagah 'the Wise Grey' had told her that. For an orc he had been smart and thoughtful. If she hadn't been knocked out like a green boy because she had broken rule n°4; _when you catch it, kill it_; she would have triple checked to make sure Jagah was really, really, really dead.

Legolas said nothing. And after not so long, Irony felt her body numb and her eyelids become heavier. The wind was generous and strangely warm, and the moss was thick and soft under her skin. When her eyes opened a last time to look at the beauty of the wild, she saw _feet_. A man's feet in ugly boots made of animals' dirty skins. The man didn't bend, so he did not see her and knew not she was there, but since he was walking slowly and carefully on his toes as if to not be heard, he must have seen Legolas.

_A friend would not walk like a cat, _she was certain of it. _So he must be a foe,_ she concluded. If the elf had seen him, he would have had him cornered already. Should she try to stop the man before he tried to strike or should she let him kill the elf? Irony bit her lips. She did not wish to interfere. This normally, wouldn't be a dilemma. Normally, she wouldn't hesitate a second to let her companion be murdered while she stayed hidden and safe, if her companion hadn't been an elf: that is to say a _guarantee_ of protection from everyone – _but himself_.

Still in deliberation with herself, she heard an arc be pulled. Decided at once, she grabbed one of the man's feet with her tied wrists and pulled it toward her, hard, making him loose his arrow before he could shoot it, but revealing her position.

The man bent, and before she could crawl out of under the tree the other way, he had grabbed the extra from the rope that bind her hands together and pulled on it, forcing her out of her hole in the ground.

He pulled her hair back, and she groaned in pain. But the next second the man was on the ground, and Legolas in front of her. Startled, she took a step back and stared at the elf in fear for a few seconds, before realising she was safe.

Leoglas grabbed the man's hair the same way he had grabbed hers. Except the man's feet were not touching the ground. Irony stared in shock at the elf's display of strength. She supposed it must have taken him a lot of self control not to crush her throat when she was in the carriage. Her neck was probably as easy to break as a hen's for him.

When she had taken a good look at the human, she realised he was one of the merchant. She had thought them all dead. But she hadn't checked. She should have checked.

"Why didn't you kill him the other day? Are you mad?!" she shouted. _Rule n°4: When you catch it you kill it. Catch it and kill it, it's simple! " _Once you hold the enemy, you finish him! You don't chat with him, you don't ask him questions, you don't listen to his begging, you just kill it or he comes back. Kill him,_ now_!"

Legolas furrowed both brows, not lessening his grip on the merchant he seemed to have recognized too.

"I don't kill _innocent_ men. He killed no one." he replied.

"Innocent?!" Irony laughed sarcastically " After their very first words, no one is innocent!" she told him, regaining her cool but still wanting the man to be turned into a corpse. "He raped some of the women too! All four of them did!" she insisted.

"Is this true?" dryly asked the elven prince to the slave seller. The elf's instinct seemed to have become one of a cold blooded murderer.

The merchant stopped his whining to speak. "Please, please.." he begged, crying, looking miserable and vulnerable. "I didn't...I didn't touch 'em. Good sier please..." he cried. Legolas looked at Irony again. But this time, with distrust in his eyes. He believed him over her

Her brows furrowed dangerously. She took the dagger from the hanging man's belt and pressed it against his neck. "Fine, _I_ will do it then."

"DON'T." warned the elf, as he put the man on the ground and brought a hand to one of his short swords. Irony stood no chance against him. She threw the dagger on the floor. The freed merchant turned to thank the elf who had lowered his guard. "Thank yo' good sier th' elf." he told legolas, holding the elf's eyes with misery on his face while he searched for something at his waist, in his back, with one hand. "The gods bless yo', they bless yo' I say-" The man could not say another word for Irony had put the extra rope from her ties around his neck, and was preventing him from breathing. Legolas took a quick step forward.

"Don't move!" she ordered, tightening the rope around the man's neck. The elf stopped net. "Take it out and drop it." she ordered the human.

" I don't know what the missy is speakin' off." he said. She looked at Legolas, then at the man's pants, where he still had is hand. The elf furrowed a brow, but forced the man's hand out from behind his back. He was holding a hunting knife. A very sharp one.

The merchant, still gasping for air laughed. "Yo' had me with that, soft breasts." he mocked. '_Soft breast'._ It made her cringe. " Yo' certainly ain't no maid no more, just as you ain't no killer. Yo' won't kill me." he added, obviously not feeling threatened. "You sh-AH" he screamed in pain. Irony lowered her eyes. The elf's short sword had cut its way inside the man's belly as if it had been butter, and rested there. The elf seemed horrified by the man. Even more than he had ever been disgusted by Irony. He took the blade out, and she let go of the merchant. The filth fell to the ground, whining in pain, curling his body and trying to stop the bleeding to no avail. "It don't matter if I die. They'll avenge me...the villagers, we told 'em... 'bout yo', fair headed demon..." He was looking straight in the elf's eyes but the creature of light did not seem to hear him. "They'll find yo'...they'll kill ..you...if the lad here don't before...ha ha ha h-" He died. Irony checked his pulse twice, then kicked the body until she felt satisfied with herself. When she had met the man for the first time, she was selling him two woman, but "_two ain't enough_" he had said before he had called his back up and had her thrown into the carriages with the others. But it was best to keep that part secret.

"I-"

" Oh, don't pity _me_," she cut the elf, amused, while he looked at her pained and still horrified by the thought that the man had _raped _her and others. Although, truth be told, the merchants touched her, but did not _rape_ her. But that too she did not need the elf to know. "No villagers are off after my head." she told him before crawling back under the tree.

When Irony woke up, her writs were untied.


	5. No one has fucking gold coins!

**No one has fucking gold coins!**

When the villager saw Irony, he held up his wooden spear and walked cautiously towards her. She did not bother to pretend she was scared this time. He was the fifth one Legolas and her were trapping. Of course, the elf wouldn't kill them...he just knocked them out and tied them up. Of course that didn't help them since the men were numerous, and patrolling to find the 'fair faced demon' day and night, slowing them down considerably. Because of this, and of her hands being free, Irony was seriously considering to ditch the elf. He was supposed to keep her away from harm, not attract villagers with spears and torches...

The villager grabbed her arm, not so nicely, while she just stared at him, bored, and before he could open his mouth to speak, the elf had jumped down from his tree and knocked him down. The human was in such a state of shock that he did not scream.

"You ought to be a better mummer than that. Otherwise they will not fall in the trap."

"That is no trap." she growled. Her stomach growled almost as loudly. She wanted some bread and well cooked meat to fill her stomach. "We should find the road. At least from there we will know our way."

"I thought we had agreed it would be too dangerous." he answered, while she searched the villager for food and coins. Legolas had opposed to that behaviour at first, when she stole from their first victims, then he had realised that every time he had forbidden her to take a man's belonging, she had taken it anyway, when he wasn't paying attention and had finally decided not to waste his breath on it any more. Irony was too good at sneaking; she was quieter than the wind and had good reflexes. Legolas had not dared to ask her where she had learned to hide, spy and steal better than a burglar. Actually, he had not dared to ask her anything since he had killed the merchant, and had been rather caring for her. She was not about to tell him that she hadn't been raped. Humiliated, certainly, but not raped. As long as he felt sorry for her, he would not glare at her, and would keep bringing her random plants for the healing of her wrists, and the soreness of her feet and she liked things that way.

"We agreed on nothing! You decided on your own!" she told him. "Staying in the forest is too dangerous too, now. So we might as well be in danger somewhere where we won't be lost."

"We aren't lost." he shot back, feeling insulted.

She grinned. "Look at this." she pointed at a mark on a tree. "I made it. We already came this way. _Twice_." The elf seemed embarrassed. "Face it elf, this forest is not your friend, it wants your bones." she laughed, and he grimaced.

"Then which way should we go?" he asked, defiantly. She raised a brow. And pointed in the opposite direction from which she had seen the birds fly and the squirrels run. The elf hit the man hard enough to knock him out this time, then went ahead in that direction, sulking, as she followed still grinning.

"I know my way in the forest the best. I ought to be an elf." she said, imitating his voice the best she could. He answered something in his tongue. She guessed it wasn't something all that nice by the sound f it. For a prince, he cursed a lot, she thought.

* * *

><p>"I don't understand why they kept you alive." he said. He had a knack of saying things the <em>wrong<em> way. Or was it that he actually meant the orcs should have killed her? "Doubtless you slowed them down." He looked at her up and down. "Plus, you can hardly defend yourself. You lack strength. You must have been an anchor."

" You may have not noticed, but I am _useful_." she answered. He raised a brow, and for a second, she could swear she had seen the hint of a smile on his lips. _Is he making fun of me, now?_ "I showed them how to avoid being sick by boiling their food or cooking the meat brown. I taught them that doing things for the good of the group and not for themselves, made it better and easier for them to live. I tended their wounds..." _I also lured people into their traps so they wouldn't eat me. That's why they kept me alive._

He put on a serious look. "Are you an orc sympathiser?"

"I am an _everyone_ and _everything_ sympathiser when I_ must_ be." she told him.

"Have you no shame, selling your soul at the first opportunity?" he reproached. She sighed. The grumpy and judgemental elf prince was back.

"Sorry I was born and raised as trash!" she snapped. "We don't all have the privilege to be princes nor delicate elves, you see. For the likes of me, shame comes too pricey."

His face closed, and the anger she had seen in his eyes when he had looked her during the first days came back. He grabbed her arm firmly, so she would stop walking and look at him in the eyes. He reminded her of Jagah for a second. Jagah grabbed her arm the same way when he was angry.

"And what do _you_ know of being royalty!?" he yelled. "What do _you_ know of the cost of immortality?!NOTHING!So-"

"Nothing, indeed," she cut, angrier that he was, but not showing it. " But I know that when you eat with silver forks, I beg for old bread, and while you stay strong and young effortlessly, I have to cling to life like a leech to a body and will have to keep doing so during my old days too." She freed herself from his grip. " I don't think you are the one who made a bad deal with life, _elf_."

Irony walked ahead, she could see the road, and did not wish to waste any more time chatting with someone who's sole problem in life was being rejected by a she-elf. What did he know about having it hard? Nothing. He was out in the wild _by choice_. She did not have a choice. If she had had a warm bed to go back to, she would be in it right now. But her parents were more likely dead by now...and even if they still lived, she did not wish to see them ever again. They had _sold_ her to man the very day after she had bled for the first time. She cursed. Who does that to an eleven years old girl? The worse was that she _knew_ they loved her. And that was the first lesson about life she had had: no matter their feelings, people put themselves first whatever happens. Be a nuisance, and you will be chewed up. Lower your guard and you will be stepped on. Trust, and you will be betrayed. Friends are only people using you 'nicely' for so long that their situation is comfortable, and their needs don't go against yours.

* * *

><p>"Just don't let anyone see your face, and we will be fine." she told Legolas as she finished covering the top half of his head with her sirt's sleeves, that she had cut for that sole purpose. She only left his right eye uncovered so he could see. She would rather be caught for doing too much than not enough.<p>

The elf pulled up his hood. " Why can't we sleep out in the wild?" He sounded like he _wanted_ to sleep down the ground. Or up a tree. _Again._

"Because they are wild wargs coming from the large plains and I don't fancy being eaten alive." she told him for the third time. "It's better you don't speak either, your accent is..somehow _inhuman_."

She couldn't see his face any more, but she guessed he had grimaced. She had made comments on his accent a few times, and he had never like them. He didn't like being reproached anything. He was very much like a child: he only had one feeling at a time, and that feeling was always more intense than it needed be. "I will do all the talking." She took off her one of her spoiled boots to search for the coins she had stolen from the villagers he had knocked out in the forest, and counted them. "We won't have enough for the food **and** the room..."

Legolas pulled out a purse from his pocket. " I have golden coins and rubies." he said opening the about to implode purse "We could buy the establishment if we wanted to."

Irony raise a brow at 'we'. _**You**__ could buy the establishment if __**you**__ wanted to, __**prince, **_she thought. She hurried to close the purse and put it back in his pocket. "Tonight, you can't lower that hood, you can't speak, and you _especially_ can't buy anything with this, let alone, take it out of your pocket ever again." she scolded. He seemed confused, then offended. "The word of an 'elf-demon' attacking people have spread all the way to this town! What we don't want is to raise suspicions and even the way you breathe is suspicious." she told him. "So _no_ gold. No one has fucking _gold_ coins in these regions. Certainly not random _wanderers_ like we are pretending to be, and certainly not that many." She frowned. "Where did you even get all that money?"

He shrugged. "My father gave it to me. He said I might need coins while I travel among the humans." The natural with which he spoke these words unnerved Irony. _As if people commonly walked around with a fortune like __**this one**__._

Irony shook her head. "Unbelievable!" she shouted. In that purse was more money than she had ever been close to in al of her life, and he thought nothing of it. _The elf has to go!He is too naïve, he'll get me killed!_ She decided that as soon as she could steal that money, she would flee from him. With all that gold she didn't need an elf guard, nor Bree's safety, she could buy herself a house, more than a hundred guards, some servants and do nothing for the rest of her life.

"How will we pay then?" he asked.

"I will find a way." She looked around the tiny dark street. They were plenty of drunk men, an ugly old dog, an even uglier old cat and an even uglier old whore. She would have to figure out something. " I will order food for you, pay for it, and leave you there to go earn some coins. _Don't_ get out of the tavern, _don't_ change table, and don-"

"Don't speak." he completed. "I am neither deaf nor dumb." he said, annoyed. She guessed he didn't like being treated like a child. But he _was_ a child in the world of human. Surely he was older than everyone who lived here in Greyrock, but he had never ventured in the human world before. He clearly did not realised he was a lamb among wolves with lamb costumes.

She punched his chest, wanting to hurt him a little, but only hurt her knuckles. "You're not so clever either since you still speak, you _mute_." she scolded. He did not answer and opened the tavern's door.


	6. The killer is a prude

**The prude killer**

"If you want my opinion those are stupid rumours from stupid villagers! The demons takes those fools!" growled Red, the man with a fantastic red moustache as he threw a coin on the table.

"Agreed." said the man sitting on Irony's right side, before laying his cards down, on the table. He was now out of the game. They were only three others left playing in the game. "Elves are no demons. They are fragile creatures of light. They are good and wouldn't hurt a warg if it had eaten their babe."

Irony burst out in laughters. The men looked at her with round eyes. "I have some."she started, "They are no fragile creatures, I swear!" she exclaimed amused. "They are no demon either, but they can be scary. They make no noise when they walk, one of them is as strong as ten grown men. And they are fast too." she told them, after throwing a coin on the table.

"Still, they die easily, I'm telling you, lad." said Red. " If you try to fuck one of them elf ladies, they die before you can get it up." he said. Everyone laughed. _That explains why the elf suddenly murdered the merchant, _thought Irony.

The man on her left threw a coin after having glanced at her suspiciously. She did not pay him much attention for she had already changed her cards with the ones she had hidden in her pants.

"Red tells the truth, little miss." said the man with a thick black beard. Irony raised a brow. "You can't force none of 'em to have you or they'll fall cold. I heard it's because they don't make babes like we do. Their babes don't pop out from between their woman's legs, but from pink flowers only they grow." He stroked his beard for a while, then laid his cards on the table. They were only two others players left.

"Their babes don't come out of flowers!" roared Red, from under his moustache. "They make 'em like we do! Only difference is, they only bed _one_ woman for the rest of their lives." The other men laughed. Irony puffed. "It's true! I know because the old book keeper told me. And the old man tells no lies." insisted the Red. The other men seemed to agree to that. Irony was not sure what to think, for she did not know who the old book keeper was. "The elves can't even get hard if they don't like the woman and she doesn't like them back." he added before laying his cards on the table. Only the man sitting at her left side was left in the game.

Grinning, Irony threw her two last coins on the table.

"You have a man's guts, missy!" exclaimed the man on her left. He only had three teeth left, and Irony feared he would spit one on her if he spoke too much. "You better be sure about your move, because if you owe me, I will see that you repay me one way or another." he warned.

"_You_ will owe _me_." she assured him. The man did not make the suspense last. He followed with two coins, meaning that it was time for Irony to reveal her cards. She threw her them on the table, her smile going from one ear to the other. She had two aces, a joker. Every one gasped. The man on her left cursed and angrily threw his cards on the table. He had two kings and an ace. They were good cards, but not good enough compared to Irony's.

"What women want, the gods want, or so my wife says." laughed Red. When he spoke his moustache seemed to have a life on its own and danced. "Well played, missy." he complimented. She was already gathering the coins to put them in her pockets. After that last game, she had won enough for a few nights at the inn, meals included, and a little extra in case of unexpected fees. "You cheat better than any man at this table, even if drunk. If you played poker, I bet you could make a fortune."

"I could. Or I could loose a hand for cheating is not allowed in other card games." she told him. Her pants felt heavy because of the coins filling her pockets. "Well, I thank y'all for the good time." she said smiling. "Red, you better hope your wife is right and she wants you rich, 'cause you don't have enough money left to buy her wine so that she can forget how bad a husband you are, tonight." she teased.

The man laughed out loud. "The wife won't be happy, that's for sure!" He laughed some more. "And what has your _husband_ done for you to have drunk a whole bottle tonight?"

"The wine made me forget!" she exclaimed happily, before leaving the poorly lighted room.

* * *

><p>Irony could not believe it. She had left him alone here for what? Two hours, three? And he was flirting already! The maid he was talking to was a woman grown, but a very young one. No more than seventeen. Her face was still childishly round. Her cheeks were a healthy pink, her eyes were green like rubies, her skin whiter than white and her lips were plump, red, and ready to be kissed.<p>

Still unseen by the elf despite having spilled someone's ale, Irony stood in the dark and stared at them for long enough to notice their interaction had a repetitive pattern: Legolas said something, the young woman giggled, bat her eyelids a few times then answered something, and the elf smiled politely before talking again. Irony felt a hint of jealousy grow in her belly. Being beautiful and young really made things easier didn't it? _When you are __**pleasant**__ to look at, people are __**pleasant**__ with you._ She brought a hand to her crooked nose and sighed thinking of her upcoming fourth-and-twenty birthday. She was old already according to peasants.

Legolas took the possibly seventeen years old's hand and kissed it. The girl's face turned red and she could not stop herself from smiling like an idiot. Irony squinted an eye. C_ould he attract any more attention to himself?Every one is looking at them!_

The girl bent down and tried to kiss the elf. On the lips or on the cheek, Irony did not know, but whichever it was, the elf did not want it to happen. He jerked back as if the maid had turned into an orc. Irony laughed out loud then decided it was time to interfere, so that the elf would not hurt the maid's feelings too much, with one of his boring and perfectly learned speech about honour or something of the kind.

"Time to leave, child." she told the younger woman, standing straight, making herself taller than she truly was. She was slightly taller than the younger woman. The girl frowned and glared at her a little. Legolas sat still, in silence. "Well, go on then!Shoo!" exclaimed Irony. "They are lots of other men willing to look under your skirts!" Holding her tongue with difficulty, the girl walked away. Irony took a few seconds to enjoy her small victory over the more attractive maid, then turned to the elf, brows furrowed. "Do you know what being_ mute_ means, or did I have to explain it to you?"

"It was a harmless conversation." He claimed. "She doesn't know what I am."

Irony pushed the elf so she could sit where he was, in front of his half eaten meal, gone cold. "Because she was as bland as dumb!" She told him before helping herself to his vegetables, not bothering to use the fork. "Did you really have to back off as if she had turned into a monster?" she asked, curious. Irony wouldn't have liked being rejected so by a man.

"She tried to kiss me."said the elf, flustered. Irony stared at him both brows raised, remembering what the man with the red moustache had said about elves. They were 'pure' and couldn't 'get it up' without feelings, was that it? She had thought it was rubbish, but maybe it was true.

"It would only have been a kiss." she told him.

He frowned."It never is _just_ a kiss." he contested. He looked at her, judging her again so she decided the only logical reaction to his behaviour was to reach forward and press her lips against his. To her surprise, he did not jerk back like he had done earlier. But she could feel his eyes pierce her skin as though he was piercing through her with ice pikes, and jaw muscles stiffen. The kiss lasted less than a seconds but felt like an eternity in a cold hell.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, outraged as soon as his mouth was free from hers. "You shouldn't have-!"

"I expected you to shriek and back off like a little girl again!" she threw back before he could grow angrier and finish his sentence. " I didn't know you would let me come _that_ close." she replied. "Kissing you was never my intention, I just wanted to tease you a little." she told him, not really caring about the matter any more."It was just a kiss." she added when she noticed he wasn't calming down.

"It _never_ is _just_ a kiss." he repeated. "_Every_ kiss is meaningful and unique. Kissing another being should not be taken so lightly."

Unable to take him seriously on that, Irony grinned. "And I thought I was a prude because I did not wish to let a man take me from behind." _One would never think killing a man is easier than kissing a maid, for some people._

Legolas did not laugh. His backward smile grew clumsily then face red with anger, he stood to leave. "I will ask for a room. You will pay when you are done eating. You have found the money, haven't you?"

She nodded more focused on the food than on what he was saying, then he left.

* * *

><p><strong>Don't mind the updates, I was just rectifying a few sentences's spelling and grammar .<strong>


	7. The wine be damned!

**The wine be damned!**

"Wake up!" said the voice, not so softly, painfully waking Irony up.

"Why?" she whined with a hoarse voice. " Why are you doing this to me?!" She turned under her sheets, to face the wall. But the window was open and the sun attacked her face, making her squint both eyes. "Why?" she whined again. "Why is the sun so cruel?!" she whined covering her face with the pillow.

"The sun is never cruel. It is light almost as bright as the imperishable flame and warmth almost as comforting as a mother's womb." said Legolas. Irony grimaced, wishing the sound of his voice did not bang so hard against her brain at every vowel. And at every consonant. And wishing he could make sense." You must have had too much too drink last night."

_You think?! s_he thought, but did not say. Her head felt like she had tried to put alcohol out of business. She closed her eyes again, and heard the elf walk to the other side of the room. "Why did you wake me up? We have plenty of time..." she muttered, hating every second of being awake at the moment. She reopened her eyes and tossed the pillow aside. The elf was looking through the pants she had been wearing since– she realised she wasn't wearing them right now. Her thighs were almost bare; she still had a pair of tights on. "Why are you searching my pants?"

"You did not pay the inn keeper, last night. He is at the door, waiting for his money. He wants it now. Are the coins in the..._improvised_ pocket sewed in the inside?" He sounded judgemental again. But she had to admit the pocket had been badly sewed.

At the mention of the secret pocket, Irony tried to stand but her left foot was caught in her sheets and she fell off the bed, head first. "_The light be damned!_" she cursed in orcish. Legolas turned to her, sighed, shook his head in disapproval, then turned to search the pants again."DON'T!" she shouted. He turned to her again. "Don't look inside the pocket!" she forbade. "I remember paying the inn keeper last night. Send him off!"

"You can't remember that," he started, furrowing a brow. "because it did not happen. He had me come down, last night, so that I could bring you up here. You caused an infernal commotion because of your drunkenness. " he told her. He paused. "Now, what is it that needs to be hidden in a secret pocket?"

"Then the money must beeeee-" Irony sighed. "I don't know where I left it." she rolled over, to lay on her back, deciding that her head hurt too much to stand. "Just...give him one of your gold coins. And tell him that if he keeps his mouth shut about us having money, he'll be given another gold coin. Also, tell him to buy us horses. We'll need horses when we leave." she said. She realised her hair smelled like long bottom leaves smoke and puke. She needed a bath. A nice _warm_ needed bath.

"What's in the pocket?" insisted the elf, holding the pants. Irony could hear suspicions in his voice. He was right to be suspecting she was hiding something. But it was absolutely none of his business. Or maybe it was? _It_ had been taken from an elf's bones, after all. Maybe he had known him. Maybe the elf had been a _her_.

"Isn't the inn keeper at the door?" she asked trying to change the subject again. She did not want him to know she had _it_ before she had found out what powers so great _it_ had, for Azog to have had sent Bolg along with Jagah and their orcs to look for it. She remembered how scared she had been when she had found _it_. _It_ felt _magic_. And everything magic, she mostly disliked. Yet, she had been quick to hide it in her boot. She had suspected Jagah had known she had found _it_, but had said nothing hoping that with time, the other great orcs would forget about its existence and then he would take _it_ from her and keep it for himself.

Legolas plunged his hand in the pocket under Irony's fish round eyes. "NO!" she shouted. But it was too late.

The elf turned the pocket inside out."There is nothing in it." he said, looking at her as if she was stupid. Irony's heart started to beat faster and faster, and so hard in her chest that itfelt painful.

"It cannot be-" she exhaled finally standing up. She took the pants out of Legolas' hand and searched it thoroughly. "No" she said. "No, no, no, no, no! It can't be empty! It can't!" She threw the item of clothing on the floor and and looked at Legolas. "Where is it?"

"Where is _what_?"

"The-" she did not finish her sentence, realising the elf would have asked questions about _it_ if he had taken it. And realising she knew as much what the object use was than she knew what it was called. _Where is my shiny black globe?! "_Just..._s_omething that was precious to me." she answered. She tried hard to remember the previous night. It was a cloudy mess.

"_The wine be damned!_"

* * *

><p>"Woman, wake up!" called Legolas's voice for the second time today. Irony's head hurt less now, but she still lacked sleep. "Wake up!" he called again. Irony rolled to the other side of the best, as if his arm could not reach her there, and decided to ignore him, despite the weird tone of his voice. If he sounded worried or just agitated, she could not tell. "There is blood on your sheets." he said. Her eyes shot open and she sat abruptly to search for the blood, startling the elf in the process. Legolas pointed at a relatively small red stain that was still fresh. "Are you hurt?"<p>

At first she was confused, but soon enough, Irony thought about what might be happening. She removed the cover from over her and looked at between her legs. Her tights were soiled with fresh blood too at the apex of her legs. "Shit." she cursed. When she raised her head, Legolas's face was paler than a babe's ass. "'tis nothing." she started, lazily. It did not seem to reassure him the least. She got out of the bed. "I'll go ask for clean cloths and clean sheets." she said taking off the tights to put her pants on, not caring if the elf was looking at her bare buttocks or not._ Likely he is not peeping, _she thought_. _When she turned, she found he had in fact, not been watching. _How predictable._

"Why are you bleeding?" he asked her. He did not show much on his face, but Irony recognised confusion when it stared at her with so much intensity.

"Because I am a woman grown." she answered even more confused. _What kind of question was that? _She wondered.

"Are you telling me the bleeding... blood coming from... you maidenhood... is normal?"

"It is." she confirmed. He seemed a bit disgusted by that, but she could not blame him; there was nothing glamorous about having blood coming out of your junk. "Don't she-elves bleed once a month when they are grown?"

"No." he said shaking his head. Irony could have bet her life on the fact that the elf was thanking the gods in his head, right now, for she-elves did not suffer from the same monthly affliction human women suffered from.

"Well, all human woman do." she told him. "It means we are ready to be bedded and to bear children." she explained. _Yet, __**I**__ can't have children. _Irony remembered that she had whored for time, after she had fled her home. She had liked it for she had been the youngest of the whores in the brothel, and therefore the most popular, what had given her her the right to choose her clients. Laying with any of them had been a hundred times better than laying with the man her parents had sold her to. None of those men had ever forced themselves onto her, nor put her with child, bringing her to the conclusion, that she could _not_ be impregnated.

"May you bring healthy children to life one day, then." said the elf. Irony rolled her eyes. She knew that to be an empty courtesy. Probably one of those things people leaving at court must say to please women.

"No, thank you. I want no damn brat in my belly." she said, opening the door.

"Good." answered Legolas. He sounded almost relieved. "I don't mean to offend, but I think you are not fit to be a mother."

"And you lack _tact_, pointy-ears." she spat bitterly before leaving the room. If she had not noticed the inn keeper was keeping an eye on her, probably because the elf had asked him to do so when she was too drunk to notice, Irony would have fled _now_. The elf might be a good warrior, but he was getting on her nerves too often. Perhaps it was because she was not used to his kind of company. After all, going from spending your days with orcs from spending them with an elven prince was quite a change. She sighed_._ _Rule number 13_, she reminded herself, trying to calm down, _don't let anyone affect you. And if they do affect you, don't let anyone see it._

* * *

><p>(Legolas POV)<p>

The woman slammed the door behind her. Legolas suspected he had, yet again, somehow offended her. He wondered if he should be less direct when talking to her, and to humans in general, for it seemed hearing complete honesty was not at their taste most of the time. Maybe he should apologize about telling her she would be wise to deny what the gods had graced her sex with, and never bring a child to life, for she did not act as someone fit to raise one.

He thought about it some more. Then decided telling his mind was best, for the orc-lady never missed an opportunity to speak her mind to him. With others, she kept quiet. He wondered if by telling him what she thought, she meant to show him respect, or, to annoy him. He concluded that although people usually gave their opinion in the hope to help, or make a friend, she did it to annoy him, and dared to do so because he did not frighten her _any more_.

_We have spent too much time in each other's company. She knows I mean her no harm,_ he thought before remembering he had almost strangled her the second time they had met. He wrapped a hand around his neck. _Guilt_. Guilt was stuck down his throat for that foolish action. Seeing that human again, unexpectedly, had brought too many painful memories at the same time. All the memories he had wished to wash away by _leaving_ home.

He took a deep breath and laid down, careful not lie on the blood stain. There was only one bed in room, for he needn't sleep, and since the woman was not here, he could allow himself to get comfortable for a little while.

All in all, the human was not so bad, he tried to convince himself. Yes, she was impolite, not exactly gracious or caring about anything at all, but she was smart. He had learned a few things from her already. Things among which he wished he could forget that mortal human maidenhood bled once a month. For the rest, he now knew humans were not as fragile as he had first thought, and that they were very resourceful. _Very resourceful, indeed, _he reminded himself as he re-winded, in his head, the way the orc-lady had duped him and Tauriel, then, betrayed the orcs she served. He jumped to feet. _She could be fleeing by a window, right now. Or have already duped the inn keeper and left by the main door!_

Legolas rushed to the door, opened it and-...found the orc-lady in clean clothes standing right outside the room, a hand in the air, still wondering where the doorknob had gone.

She raised a brow at him. She seemed to think he had gone mad for e had opened the door violently. "I think there is too much going on in that pretty head of yours, elf." she told him with that smug smile of hers, before stepping inside, and throwing the clean sheets she had brought with her on the bed. She spoke on that tone all the time; she sounded like she _knew_ everything that was going on in everyone's mind, and that even before the people to who the thoughts belonged could think them. It scared him sometimes how she _knew_ how people she had never met before would react to certain things. Like the inn-keeper, this morning. How did she know the man would not grow greedy and bring strong men to rip them of their gold?

Legolas closed the door and turned to find the woman was all on her four, on the dusty floor, looking for something. He sighed. _She is looking for that 'precious something' again. _

"I believe you have already searched the whole room for your..._lost_ object. It is not in this room."he assured her. She ignored him. "We should leave. The inn-keeper must have had horses readied for us by now."

"I'd kiss you again sooner that I would leave this place without my _thing!_" She did not bother to look at him. And Legolas was glad for that, for he had grimaced despite himself at the thought of the kiss. That kiss had made him most uncomfortable. '_Every kiss means something. Every kiss is unique. Every kiss is a beginning. ' _his father had told him. _A beginning to what,_ _Ada? The human might be right. Some kisses mean naught._

"May I ask what it is you are looking for?" _Maybe I can help, _he thought. Helping her find her thing could make up for having offended her earlier. Also, the sooner they found the object, the sooner they would leave, reach Bree, and find strider.

"Nothing." she answered looking bewildered. It made him wonder if she even knew what she was looking for. That confirmed to him that he had no reason to be curious about what the object was. It couldn't be important if she could not even remember what it was.

"Since there is _nothing_ to look for, I suggest we leave then."

* * *

><p><strong>As I was going through the first chapters yesterday I realised seeing Legolas only through Irony's eyes might give you the wrong idea about him. So I added a small part from his point of view in this chapter to give the character more depth and make it clear that has not gone cruel to end because he is on meth or something. <strong>

Also thank you for all the lovely reviews! Know that I read them all carefully ;)


	8. Moonfaced clairvoyant

**The blind clairvoyant**

"You _owe_ me this." affirmed Legolas. Irony knew she owed him this. She owed him this for he had agreed to stay in Greyrock for a fortnights so to see if they could find the man who had handed her to the elf when she was drunk. She suspected _that_ _man_ had stolen her shiny globe.

"You saved me, I saved you. I owe you _nothing_." replied Irony unnerved. Knowing she had been stolen so easily from made her furious! Also, two days had already passed, and Mudbucket people had come in town to start a wild market, and among that many people, the chances that Legolas and his keen eyes recognized any one were thin, if non existent. "If anything, _you_ owe me for making me stay with you by force." _You owe me for making me break rule number 7: After the third day, keep them away. And I should have remembered that before your shit: you not killing the slave sellers, starts rubbing all over my face! _

The word of the 'elf demon' had spread fast, and had now been caught up by another rumour. It was said that a wicked witch who lived under trees' roots walked with the demon elf. Irony had had to cut her hair as short as a man's, and to flatten what little breasts she had with an old cloth to look more like a young man and less like the witch people spoke of.

"I don't see chains around your wrists." he told her on the same growling tone.

Irony stopped walking, and because the street was crowded, a man making his way hit her with his shoulder by inadvertence. She thought his face was familiar, but he had left as fast as he had come, and she could not place him, so she turned back to Legolas.

"Only because you cut them a fortnights ago." she offered along with a forced smile.

"As proof that I trusted your good will." he insisted. He had told her that before. She hadn't believed him then, and she did not believe him now. By the way he sometimes discretely glanced at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention, she suspected he wished her hands were still tied together. A tied up woman could not do much DEGAT, even if she had an axe.

"Trust?" she repeated, jerking her head back. "Is that why you keep an eye on me constantly, follow me wherever I go, listen to my conversations with people? Because you _trust_ me?" She smiled unpleasantly.

Legolasl said nothing and she heard his teeth clench together. But, he did not grab her arm violently like he had done a few times before, and like Jagah used to do. The elf had stopped doing that after he had seen that it bruised her badly. Her arms were still violet and yellow like piss from the last time he had grabbed her that way, days ago. "Besides, we need to have a look at those horses the inn keeper bought to make sure they are fit for the road. And we have to buy provisions too." _And a weapon, for me. But I won't tell you that."_We don't have time for those... _shenanigans_." She started walking again. When she realised he hadn't moved from where he was standing, she turned to him.

"Please." he insisted. He sounded like a wounded cat. "I very much desire to see her."

Irony's mouth dropped open. He was adorable. But she could not allow herself to comply to all of his senseless requests just because of his sad puppy face. Feeling irritated, she closed her eyes and sighed. "What do you want with a clairvoyant?"

"Hear her words." He sounded really excited. As if the fortune teller he spoke of would say something incredible. "I heard from Harra that this one is the wisest. And I have never seen a human with the gift of sight, before."

"Harra?" repeated Irony, not having listened to anything after the name. She blinked a few times. "Who's that?" she grounded. "Do you _still_ speak to random people although I forbade you to?" she asked. He had talked to random people. Following what a sketchy man spent a night at in the inn, in _their_ room, despite her protests. _'He needs shelter for only one night'_ the elf had told her, before leaving to do _elf things_, she had supposed. And as soon as he had left, the man in need of shelter had pressed a knife against her belly, claimed her boots, belt and the ring she wore. "You will get _me_ in trouble! AGAIN!" she reproached, readjusting the sleeves of her old shirt wrapped around his face, under his pulled up hood, making sure his ears were still well hidden.

He pushed her hands away, as if she had a rare, contagious disease. He hated it when Irony touched him. And because of that, she used every excuse she could to touch him.

"You oft forget that you are my _prisoner_, woman, and not my road companion. You will not speak to me on that tone again." he told her, sounding like the prince she thought belonged only in a castle and not in Greyrock. "Harra is the fair maid, with green eyes, you called a harlot when you were so inebriated you tried to force your tongue in my mouth,-"

"There was no tongue involved." she argued, although, she could not say for sure she hadn't actually tried to make out with him. That whole night was still all too blurry.

Legolas paid her interruption no mind, and kept going."You told a man to stop being a pussy-cat when he told you, you had had too much to drink. And you lost all of our coppers," _A pussy-cat?! You got me wrong elf!_She thought without showing her amusement. "And sang so badly the inn keeper had to call me down to carry you away."

He kept remind her about all the attention _she_ had gotten them that night every time he could. "Clairvoyants are frauds." she started changing the subject.

"Harra assured-"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Of course, a sixteen years old waitress knows clairvoyants better than I do because her cheekbones are higher than mine!" She smirked, hoping the elf would get the sarcasm. Still she would not be surprised in the case he didn't understand it at all.

"Actually, the entirety of her face is fairer." he corrected. He smirked back at her. She punched his chest. It triggered no reaction from him. "Your knuckles will be needing tending if you insist on doing this." He said that to mock her and not as a show of worry, Irony thought. He took her still closed fist and looked at it. "They already are red." he noted, raising a brow.

She snapped her hand off his. "Clairvoyants all are charlatans who use naïve fools, _like you_, to earn their bread. I would know, because I pretended to be one, for a time." she told him, calmly. The elf's brows furrowed. _One more thing you can add to the long list of things I've done you disapprove of_. "You should not believe _all_ of what people say. People _lie_. _All_ the time." she warned him.

" It seems to me _you_ take absolutely all you hear for lies." he told her, coldly.

" Only because it takes the truth to fool me, not long legs and a pair of teats."

* * *

><p>The incense smelled of mystery and cinnamon and the orange-red light coming from the only candle in the room made even Legolas look like he could foretell what was to come. The fat blind woman's face was as old, round and as scarred as the moon and seemed to ready to roll down the dusty folds of her neck at any time. Her hair was covered with a kerchief and on her ears emerald encrusted jewels, that Irony was convinced were fake, hung like dead men.<p>

The room was full of scary statuettes, human bones, pearls, parchments, and suspicious potions even Irony would not drink for all the gold and silver in the world. On the table they sat at, only a feather and an inkwell laid.

Irony felt uncomfortable here and hated that the elf had given the fraud two silver coins to hear her tell made up stories.

"First, who?" asked the old woman, with a thickest accent than the elf's, without looking at anything with her white irises. Legolas looked at Irony, with shining eyes. Irony shook her head, uninterested. "Elf hand." said the mooned face woman before either one of them could say a thing. Irony's jaw fell open in shock. How could she know he was an elf when she was blind? And even if she hadn't been blind, all she could have seen would be _one_ of his eyes and his mouth? Legolas gasped happily. "Give hand, now, prince." asked the foreteller. The elf complied faster than he climbed up trees.

Supposing the clairvoyant had just made another lucky guess, Irony sighed and rested her head on her hand, bored, while the old lady inspected the fair creature's hand with her wrinkled sausage-like fingers and started to mutter things in a probably made up language.

The fortune-teller's voice became louder and louder and suddenly changed completely, sounding like one of a demon of old. Her, until now, empty irises now reflected the blue of the elf's eyes. Behind her stood blurry shadows that seemed to have a will of their own. Irony noticed Legolas had put on a serious look, and his free hand was wrapped tightly around one of his weapons' shaft, ready to slay the clairvoyant at any sign of aggressiveness. He also seemed unable to acknowledge anything else than the clairvoyant.

When Irony looked at the moon-faced woman again. The fortune-teller wasn't old any more, but young and gorgeous, with an ebony dark skin thick as expensive leather, full pink lips and almond shaped eyes.

_This is some kind of dark magic_. Irony's muscles stiffened. She wanted to stand up and leave, but something kept her still on the chair. And that something was not fear, she knew. That something didn't come from her, but from an outer force that prevented her from moving.

The leather skinned woman's right hand let go of the elf's hand to grab the feather and sink it in the dark black ink, while her left hand flattened his palm on the table. She began to write on Legolas's white skin. Then she released the elf, ant turned to Irony. Her eyes turned as dark and brown as Irony's, reflecting until the small black birth mark she had in one eye. "Your turn, little dream." she told Irony. _Little dream...I have been called that before..._

To Irony's dismay, her hand moved as if it had come to life, to land in the clairvoyant's. The black woman spoke the strange sounding words again, until her voice changed again, and she started writing on Irony's hand with the feather, the same way she had done on Legolas's hand. Irony could almost see spirits whisper in the woman's ear. She did not dare to look at the other woman's face, but raised her eyes when the mysterious lady suddenly stopped talking. Black blood was coming out of her mouth. Irony stood up with fright, snapping her hand out the fortune teller's.

She was now aware of her surrounding again. The wooden cabin's back wall was destroyed and half of the roof had collapsed with it. Everywhere, people were screaming, fighting, running in every directions. _How could I not have noticed all this before?_

She looked in front of her again. The fortune-teller's forehead was on the table. Looking at the clairvoyant's hands, Irony guessed at the sight of the wrinkled fingers, that she had become old and ugly again. It seemed that she had died of piece of wood planted in the back of her head. It had probably been projected there when the wooden wall was demolished.

"We must go." said Legolas after having knocked out an hysteric man who had come in. Two others laid on the floor, by the elf's feet. "I know not what is happening, but this place is not safe any more."


	9. A young man with swollen lips

**A young man with swollen lips**

_If I had had his purse, this chaos would have been ideal to run away_.

While running, Irony tripped on someone who must have had fallen then died from being stomped on, but managed to stand almost as soon as she had met the floor, then kept on pursuing the sandy blond man, not worried about the elf not being behind her any more. He had probably been caught fighting some of the orcs who were raiding the town.

_What was his name again? Where do I know him from? It's been such a long time..._ "WAIT!"she screamed at him. But he did not wait. He turned into a smaller street on the left. Irony pushed and kicked every person on her way, not caring if anyone got hurt in the process. This man she could not remember had her black globe. She was certain of it. He had it. _He has it. He must have seen me drunk in the tavern and took advantage of my drunkenness to steal from me...if only I could place him._

She turned into the same street..._SHIT!_ An orc had killed the sandy blond haired man. No, the man still moved. But would probably die soon judging by how much blood came out of his chest.

The orc didn't bother to search him. He had seen _her_ and a prey who could still fight and scream was far more interesting than gold to his kind. Plus, gold did not have legs to run away.

Irony reached for whatever weapon was tied at her hip by habit, but found none. The first time they met, Legolas had taken the dagger she had had when she was with Jagah, after that, the slave sellers had taken the dwarvish sword she had stolen from a corpse and since then, the elf had opposed to her having a weapon. '_I do not wish for my throat to be slit open while I look the other way._' he had told her.

She felt like an ant about to be crushed. She regretted not having waited for the elf. _He_ would have already killed the orc by now.

The beast launched himself at her, and she avoided him by jumping to the side. She tried to run away through the other end of the street, but the filth had long arms, and caught her before she could flee.

"Argh-" She coughed when she received a punch in the stomach. She fell to her knees and the orc knocked her head against the closest brick wall, hard enough to blur her vision and disorient her, but not so hard she would pass out.

Now too weak, Irony let her body fall to the ground. Once she was laying on the dirty ground, the beast grabbed her head with his big red blood dirty hand and pulled her head back a little so he could have a good look at her face. She spit blood on the floor.

"_I knew I had seen a black dot in that right eye of yours. Could this be my lucky day?_" he said. Irony shivered. He knew about her birth mark in the eye, which meant he had been told about it, which meant _someone_ was looking for her.

The orc let go of her head then squatted to pull her shirt up a little and look at her back. He traced the two inches long scar she had about the middle bottom part of her back with a rough dry finger. "_It is my lucky day! You have both marks! You **are** the human-orc whore." _

"_Jagah?" _she managed to say as she stood, helping herself with the wall because her legs were still shaking. She was not half orcish, but after having stayed with the orcs for years, they had started calling her that. 'They' being the orcs who did not know her, and the humans who had heard about a woman who helped orcs kill her own kin.

"_Don't pretend with me, cunt! We both know you killed Jagah."_ He pulled her to him and held her face firmly between his thumb and his index, to look at her in the eyes. "_I don't know what the master wants you for. He cared not about Jagah. You must have something precious to him." _He smirked. "_Give it to me. Give me what he wants._"

"_I don't know what you're talking about._" she replied, not so dryly.

He released her only to punch her in the stomach again. The pain made her bend in half as she held her belly where it hurt. She noticed the bulge on the orc's left boot. _There is a dagger there, _she realised. She looked up to him grinning and flicked the bird at him. He laughed out loud, joined his hands together and hit her back hard, making her fall on her four. Now, she could try to grab the weapon without it being too obvious, she just had to be careful.

"_What is it you have, Bolg wants?_" he asked, looking down at her.

The sandy blond haired man laying a few meters away coughed, catching the orc's attention: the filth turned to look at dying man.

_Perfect!_ Irony gently wrapped her fingers around the weapon and delicately but quickly slipped it out of the shoe. The orc did not seem to have felt anything.

The best gave Irony a not so nice kick on the side then walked to the sandy blond haired man. She bit dust this time, but managed to hide the thin blade from the creature's view.

"_You're holding on tight to your misery, worm._" he told the man, as he touched the bleeding man's face with a foot.

Irony gathered her strengths and stood up as fast as she could, making as little noise as possible. What noises she made, the orc could not hear for it was covered by the cries of pain and screams of fear coming from the main street.

On her toes, she walked like a cat in the orc's back, and once she was so close she could feel the warmth of his body, she stopped breathing so that he wouldn't feel her breath on his skin.

"_You catch me in a good mood, I have found the girl. So I will be merciful and chop your head off fast!" _he told the blond man. The orc raised his ugly sharp sword high with both hands, but before he could do as he intended, Irony did what she did best: she cut his jugular open. His black blood poured abundantly and the orc fell heavily, causing dust to fly off the ground.

Irony let herself fall on her knees, not waiting to catch her breath to start searching the almost dead human for her globe.

"Little dream," the man with sandy blond hair started, with a feeble and hoarse voice. He sounded like birds were pecking at his flesh. Then again, he had a massive bloody gash going from a shoulder to the opposite side's hip. "I told Aren..." he said, smirking unpleasantly. _Aren?I know this name...but I can't give a face to it any more, it's been too long...it's been about eleven years... _Irony pretended not to be listening, and let go of his shirt, to search his pants. "...G-...Guill will know...soon enough..." he breathed.

Irony froze at the name. Guill was one name she could not forget to who's face it belonged. Guill was the one had nicknamed her 'little dream'. "You are done for...he'll look for you...he'll find you...he'll-" Not wanting to hear any more, Irony slit the man's throat.

_Bad habits die hard,_ she told herself. She had heard enough unpleasant things for the day. Bolg was alive because the elf had done a _terrible_ job at killing him, and the orc now wanted her head along with the mysterious globe. _And_ Guill, the first person she had ever deliberately betrayed and who, understandably, had wanted her head on a spike since then, now knew she still lived and would come looking for her soon enough...

"_The light be damned!_" she cursed. Maybe she should have stayed with Jagah! At least then, neither Guill nor Bolg were after her.

She let loud a satisfied gasped when she found the dark sphere in one of the sandy haired man's shoo. The black and ever so shiny globe was no more enrolled in old cloths. Irony cut a piece of the dead man's shirt that was not soaked with blood yet, and used it to pick the globe up, without entering in direct contact with the sphere. She had found it carefully enrolled, and not knowing what the thing's power was, she decided it best to never touch it directly.

She quickly hid it in the bands that flattened her breasts, where Legolas would not find it even if he searched through her stuff gain. Her shirts were large, so no suspicious bulge could be seen.

She shook the shoo some more, wondering if had her money hid there too, but only a square yellow paper fell from it. She unfolded it. It was a portrait. A portrait of the man she had just killed with woman. The woman she recognize on the spot.

"Tilis" she said shocked. Tilis had had had her hands on the wrong thing, at the wrong moment, causing her death. "Then you must be Amos." She stared at the cold body. It did look like Tilis's twin, Amos. Only with twelve more years than the last time she had seen him and a more marked jaw. " 'Guess you had found the truth behind your sister's death since you seemed to hate me more than Guill..."

Irony sighed. She stood up. She sighed again, and decided to leave her worries with Amos' corpse. After all Aren was very likely dead, killed by an orc in the chaos. And even if he weren't dead, she would leave Greyrock as soon as she found Legolas, so Guill would never know where she went. And neither would Bolg.

She hid the dagger in her boots like the orc had, and took his ugly sword to defend herself if needed in the next few minutes. She did not thought she would need it though, because she planned on climbing up a wall and walk on the roofs until she found the elf. No one ever looked **up **for some reason, so she should be safe up there.

* * *

><p>Legolas, who was no longer hiding his face, came out of the half broken stables.<p>

"It's empty of people, come in." he told her. Irony rushed inside. The orcs weren't done sacking the town and a human with nothing to loose is the most dangerous creature that could be, so she did not wish to wait outside for either one to find her.

" Don't approach any of them." Legolas told her. The only live horses left were restless and kicking back and forth at everything in that stood in their way. "I'll calm one down and bring him to you." said Legolas.

Irony furrowed a brow. She wondered if the elf was right in his head. _A mad horse is a dangerous beast_, she thought. But the elf seemed not to share her point of view for he walked to them nonchalantly. He murmured in his singing language to a tall brown animal that had already been saddled and the animal ceased his kicking as the elf came closer to him. Legolas caressed the horse a little then handed its reins to Irony. "Here."

Irony clumsily took the reins and ignoring the pain in her body from the very recent beating by the orc, she mounted the animal.

The elf repeated whatever he had sang to the great brown horse to a great tall black one without saddle then climbed on top of the beast easily. Irony guessed riding without saddle was another _elf thing_. Kind of like climbing up trees, wanting to sleep under the stars, enjoying to sit on high places, being extremely judgemental, and keeping their hair impeccably braided no matter the situation.

"Let's go! Before they find us and kill us." Irony told Legolas who was taking his sweet time, sympathizing with his newly stolen horse.

"It's not us they want," he replied sitting straight. " They are looking for a woman with a scar on her lower back." he added. "Not an elf and a strangely feminine young man, with a black eye and swollen lips." His lips curled up a little. Irony noted that Legolas was probably used to speaking to other warriors, and not commoner human women. If she had been Harra, the almond shaped eyed waitress, she would not have found _that_ funny but insulting. But she was not Harra. Irony smiled a little.

"One never feels more alive than after having escaped death, still feeling the pain from doing so." she answered. She had never been so glad be able to joke with someone before. It must have had to do with the fact that the elf was not so unpredictable as orcs were, and would not kill her if she said something silly. It also had to do with the fact that against the odds, she had escaped death, yet again.

"Truer words were never said." he agreed chuckling.

Irony inspected him. He had a few cuts, but nothing too deep. Apart from that, he was as immaculate as ever. There was no dry black blood on him like there was on her clothes. There was no dirt of any sort on him at all. But his looks did not matter. What was on the opportunist's mind, was how much did the elf know about the woman with a scar on her back. She waited a little while, until they were far from the now burning Greyrock to speak of the matter again, so that she would not arise any suspicion.

"How did you know the orcs were looking for someone and not just sacking a village because they could?" she managed to place in a hollow conversation.

"I 'asked' an orc." he answered. "But truth be told, scar in the back or not, orcs will kill both us if they find us." _You don't have to tell **me**_, though Irony. "Therefore, so soon as you are done eating, we ride again. You can sleep tomorrow night, not before."

Irony jumped back on the horse.

"Better yet, let's keep going now. I can eat while I ride."


	10. Gods would not waste that cock

**The gods wouldn't waste that cock**

"Does your back still pain you?" asked the elf as he took his boots off. Irony had not told him that she had been hit in the back. But since she shifted uncomfortably every now and then on the horse and had not laid on her back since then, she was only half surprised the elf had guessed it hurt.

"Terribly so." she replied getting off her horse. _Ibey_, she had named the beast. It meant _twin_ in her mother tongue, only spoken by a handful of people from _Bucketdeep,_ the village from which she came from.

Legolas had told her not to tie the horses to a tree. He had said that since they treated the beats well, the animals would not run away. And he was right, the horses had stayed with them so far. By now, she was convince he understood the horses, and they, him.

"Did it happen when I lost you in the crowd?" he asked, taking his leaf-green tunic off. He folded it carefully and put it near his boots, before sitting on the grass, facing the lake in front of which they had chosen to halt for the day, and the night. They were far enough from Greyrock, by now, and even if the orcs had left the town for the next one, it would take them a fortnights before they could catch up with them, since the dark creatures could not walk by day when the sun was too high, and the weather had been more than generous the past few days.

"Lost in the crowd?" She raised a brow. _What is he talking about? _Irony removed the saddle from Ibey, so the horse could feel free.

"Yes," he turned to her. "When you fell in the crowd and was stepped on, in Greyrock, during the raid." he cleared. The fact that he thought it strange that he had to remind all this to Irony was obvious.

"Ooooooh!" she exclaimed, suddenly remembering her lie. She had judged too risky to tell him she had had to confront an orc, so that she could reach for her precious mysterious globe. If she had told him that, he would certainly have taken the possibly magical object from her, and kept it for himself. Or maybe he would not have cared. Who knew with that elf... "Yes, it happened then." she confirmed before sitting by his side. _Rule n°6:_ _Either lie well or not at all, _she reminded herself._ Lies truly cheat on everyone: the liar and the person lied to. _

She grabbed on of his hands and brought it where she had been hit on the back so he could feel the hard bump through the fabric of her clothes. His eyes opened wide once his fingers felt the area.

"It is swollen _and_ hard." he said, surprised. He sounded as though he had never seen such a thing before.

"It is swollen, hard, _and _violet and black like a rotting corpse." she told him as she released his hand. He immediately removed it from her body. She wondered if not liking to touch others and not liking to be touched by others was another _elf thing_ or if it was just that he thought her dirty. If it were the case, she could not hold that against him: she _was_ dirty, _and_ smelly _again_. "You, on the other hand, seem to have already healed completely from your wounds." She looked at him, squinting both eyes as if it would allow her to see better. It did not make her see any better, but she noticed the white under-shirt he wore was see through when when the wind made the branches move and let the sunbeams shine on him. She rolled her eyes. He was perfectly built, as expected of an elf.

"Elves heal faster than other beings." He laid down.

"Yet you sulk every time I remind you how lucky you are to be elven." she complained. Being of the First born truly sounded great: long life, incredibly resistant bodies, no time wasted on sleeping, natural beauty and cleanliness, fast healing..._All they have to do in life is be idle and not worry._

"Elves can die of broken hearts. " he said a little bit aggressively, as if to prove to her being elven wasn't as great as it sounded. It was the first time he had mentioned that information. Irony furrowed a brow and shook her head to let him understand _that_ did not sound so bad. "Hearts are fragile and irreplaceable." he insisted.

"You still live," she puffed. She stretched then laid down too, but on her belly, so that she would not awaken the pain in her back. "So either you do not know what being heart broken means or you don't love Tauriel as much as you think you do."

She felt him stiffen. He hid in his invisible shell, making the air go cold, like every other time either Tauriel or her dwarf were mentioned. But the fact that he did not get angry was an improvement. She guessed he was finally getting over the she-elf.

Irony wondered if the dwarf had truly died. After all, Legolas had let her think Tauriel had died, for a time, before informing her the she-elf was much alive. Maybe the elf wanted her to think the red head's tiny lover was dead because he _wished_ the dwarf was cold, stiff and still. She wondered why elves and dwarves hated each other. They were different, but so were humans and elves, and yet she was at peace with the prince.

The elf shifted position and closed his eyes as if he was about to sleep.

"You speak as though you know of love." he told her making sure that she understood that what he truly meant was that she knew _nothing_ of love.

"Maybe I do know of love."

He opened his eyes to look at her with disbelief. He raised brow. "Did you ever love?" he asked her.

"I did." she confirmed. She looked away for a few seconds, recalling that time, so long ago, during another life, when she had been just another commoner, with friends and a family. "Too many times, truth be told." she added, thinking of Guill, and the three others after him. "It is vastly overrated if you want my opinion."

The prince shifted position to face her. He seemed genuinely interested in the subject."Were you ever loved back?" he asked.

"I was." She smiled. "For a while." she added, failing to feel completely unconcerned.

"It did not last?" insisted the elf, curious.

"Love.."she started, "Is like money," She paused a second, thinking. "It never lasts because you consume all you have as fast as it comes. And it's hard to come by too. That's why everyone wants it so badly."

"_You_ look for money but not for love." he said. It did not sound like a reproach but like a fact.

She knew he disapproved of her attitude towards coins, but he had it all wrong.

"It's not coins I want. It's what I can buy _with it_." she explained. " And that makes all the difference." Love she could not buy and was against the rules of survival she had made from experience. Love made you irrational; being irrational made you dead; and being dead...well, being dead made you _dead_.

"What is it that you wish to buy so fiercely?"

She smiled at his curiosity. "Peace!" she exclaimed, enjoying the gentle breeze and the sun's warmth on her face. "Tranquillity!" she added. "Calm and all the likes!"

"If I had to believe one out of all the things you have told me so far, that would be it." he told her.

Irony frowned in silence. After all this time, he was still searching for lies in what she said. Eventually her lips curled into a discreet smile. _At least you have learned a thing or two from me._

* * *

><p>Legolas had left about two hours ago to look for berries and hopefully <em>meat<em> too. _A nice __**fat**__ rabbit would be nice_, thought Irony as she folded the bottom of her pants to dip her feet in the cool water. It felt amazing around her toes. She bent to wash her arms and refresh her face, and gasped at all the dirt that washed away in the water.

"You should bath. It would clean your wounds and help them heal faster."

She turned alerted by the voice. Legolas. With wild berries and _more_ wild berries._ Dam elf who makes no noise when he walks and eats no meat!_ "You should also wash your clothes," he started, putting the berries on his folded leaf-green tunic. "They stink more than you do." he mocked with an almost shy smile.

"And walk around butt naked?" she snapped. "Pervert!" she called him, grinning.

"Elves do not associate nudity to sexuality." he told her, sounding offended by the accusation.

She hesitated to believe him. "If not a naked body, what turns you elves on, then?" she asked. "Trees?!"she mocked. "Those _damned_ berries?!"

"Only the person we love. And only _if_ they desire us the way we do them." he said, tasting a big round blood red berry, then shrugged as though the answer had been obvious. The berry seemed to implode and its juice spread all over the startled elf's hands.

Irony laughed out loud. She laughed so much her abs hurt, and she lacked air, causing her to loose balance and to fall fully clothed in the clear water. Legolas was the one laughing now. Irony hurried to get out of the water.

She sighed, hating that she would have to keep her clothes on even if they were wet, so that she wouldn't have to stay completely naked for a long time, in front of the male elf, out in the wild for every passer by to see. Still, she took the first layer of clothes off and laid them flat in the sun, keeping her under-shirt and tights on. Her grey under-shirt was half see through because of the water, but she did not care. She still had the bands hiding her breasts, and the globe.

When she looked at the blond elf again, _he_ was naked, folding his trousers neatly. She stared, unsure she was not hallucinating.

"_By the Dark One!_ WHAT are you doing?" she asked him.

"Folding my clothes." he stated the obvious. "I want to swim." He cared not if she was looking at his manhood, and if he did, he hid his embarrassment too well for Irony to see it. He had an undoubtedly flawless body. Skin pale as a newborn's and smooth too, well drawn muscles, strong legs, and a generously proportioned sex. _And he doesn't even use it...They truly are no gods! If they were, they would not have wasted that cock on an elf!_

Legolas put his trousers near his tunic then walked to the lake. _And that ass! _Irony slapped herself mentally. _What am I thinking?! _

When the water covered him up to the waist, he turned to her. "You should join me. You need a bath more than I do, and the water feels great." he assured her.

He wasn't wrong. Washing off the horse smell and the crass to be clean, even if just for a day or two, would be amazing. The elf, she didn't mind for he would not pay her any attention, but being butt naked when anyone could walk by...

Legolas must have felt her discomfort for he spoke again. "I know what a female naked body looks like, you have nothing to be ashamed of. The designs of Eru all are perfect the way they are, the way they were meant to be."

Irony ignored him, not knowing who Eru was and what design the elf was speaking of. She wondered when would be the next time she would have water that clean to bath in? Also, there were as many chances that someone came by than there were chances that _no one_ came by. She sighed. _I am already soaked._

Reluctantly, but determined, Irony took her under-shirt off. The elf was too busy enjoying being in the water to pay her any attention. She quickly and discretely dug a small whole in the ground in which she buried the globe, before laying her under-shirt on top of it. Then she took off the rest of her clothes and trying to hide her lady parts the best she could with her hands, she ran as fas as she could in the water, until the it covered her shoulders.

The elf had gone swimming further away. Irony did not know how to swim, so she focused on cleaning herself.

When she rubbed her left hand with the right one, she noticed that some stubborn dirt would not go off. She took a closer look at it. It wasn't dirt. It was ink. And it must have been magical for there was no getting rid of it. Irony realised it was what the fortune-teller had written on her hand. She hadn't read it because she did not know how to read. She had not expected that the ink would stay on her skin for weeks. She frowned her brows and stared at the writing trying to decipher it, but to no avail.

"The human life fears time." read the elf's voice, from over her shoulder. "Thus, shall thou run slower than the past, thy past will–– will _what_ ?"

"She probably died before she could finish writing." she answered, disappointed. Then she realised how close to her the naked elf was to her, and shrieked. She had bad memories about males approaching her naked without her knowledge, and wished not for it to reproduce itself again.

Legolas furrowed a brow and raised the other, not understanding why she was putting more distance than was necessary between them, but respected her choice.

"What does yours say?" she asked him, calming down.

He did not look at his hand. "When the vice is strong, the gods keep careful eyes. Shall thou take vice's hand, thou will find thy self between irony's thighs. But shall thou stay true, the gods will provide." he said. Irony's eyes opened wide. "Is something wrong?"

She ignored the question. She took his left hand and searched for markings but found nothing on it, so she took the right one. But there was no ink on it as well. "Why did you wash it off?" she asked annoyed.

"It faded by itself, seconds after I read it." he told her. She looked at her hand; the letters had already almost disappeared. But the words were stuck in her mind. Those of Legolas's prediction even more so. "What is it to you?"

She ignored his question again. "Was 'irony' written with a capital letter?" she asked him. She could not read, but she knew how to write _her name_. And it was written with a capital "I".

He frowned, not liking to be ignored twice. Then seemed thoughtful. "I can't recall. But I don't see why she would have written 'irony' with a capital letter." He looked at her expectantly. _You'd know __**why**__ if you had bothered asking my name instead of calling me 'orc-lady'. _"You look awfully agitated by those predictions for someone who believe clairvoyants are a fraud."

Irony couldn't help but laugh out loud. "You would be agitated too if you knew _half_ of what your prediction means." _You'd have a heart attack, elf! But such a thing is very unlikely to happen. I don't know what vice will hold its hand to you, but I am sure as the sun sets that you won't take it. _

"You understand _my_ prediction?" he exclaimed taking a step forward, eager to know more about it.

"I said I understood _half_ of it...well...I think I understand half of it." she hesitated. "But it could as well be something completely different. We cannot know until it happens." She laughed a little. "You will find yourself between Irony's legs' is the part you want to watch our for." She laughed some more. Legolas stared at her a few seconds seeing she was amused by something, and seemingly thinking she had gone mad.

"Swim with me. They are fishes of all sorts in the deep of the lake. I am sure even you could enjoy such beauty." he said once her laughter had subsided. He was smiling, _for once_. He sounded almost as excited about showing her fishes than he had sounded when he had asked to see the clairvoyant.

"I can't swim." she told him. He seemed surprise. She guessed elves probably all knew how to swim. "I was never taught. Water is too precious from where I come from to be swam in."

"Would you care to learn ?"

"Err-" she stopped. "What do- why do you- are you serious?" she asked him. "Or do you plan on drowning me?" she asked taking a few steps back in apprehension.

" You are my best chance at finding strider. I will not drown you." he told her before holding his hand out to her. He was one of the rare persons who despite having been cold and unpleasant, and sometimes angry at her, was never violent nor abusive nor disrespectful to her. He had been too rough for her liking, once or twice, but never cruel. And now he was offering to teach her how to swim? Had he forgotten he was her captor, and not her friend? More importantly could she trust him?

"You can trust me." he said as thought he had heard what she had been thinking.

After a long hesitation she took his hand, and let him lead her towards the middle of the lake. At some point, her feet could not touch the bottom any more and she sank like a rock. Thankfully, the elf noticed and pulled her up so she could breathe. When she emerged, she was coughing water and panicked at the idea of dying breathing water in. The elf pulled her to him, so that he could keep her head out of the water more easily, but all Irony could think about from the moment she was pressed against him, was her naked nipples against his torso.

Remembering traumatising past events, she crossed her legs as if to protect her sex and closed her arms around her breasts. "Don't hold me against you!" she yelled. The elf immediately straighten his arms, so that their bodies would not be touching. "_The light be damned_! Bring me back to the border!" she ordered.

He seemed to have caught the panic in her voice, for he looked at her with round eyes, and apologised several times. Then seemingly hurt, he helped her back to where she could keep her head out of the water on her own, still holding her away from him, like one would do with a stinky fat baby.

* * *

><p><strong>(Legolas POV)<strong>

He delicately let go of the woman, and backed away from her slowly, not to alarm her any more than she already seemed to be. Legolas knew he should not take the way she had reacted personally, but he couldn't help but feel hurt. How could she think for even a split second that _he_ would take advantage of her body. The simple thought of the vile act sickened him.

At the same time, he felt sad for her, for if she had reacted that way, someone must have abused of her. He remembered one of the merchants calling her '_soft breasts_' and wished he had killed him sooner.

He observed the woman from afar. She was sitting in the water, holding her legs against her chest with her arms, not really doing anything, and hopefully feeling better already. Even if she was not feeling any better Legoals thought it was not his place to comfort her, and feared that if he did try to tell her a sweet word or two, she would, at best, ignore him. _She is too used to trust only herself to accept any one's help...It is a lonely path she chose.  
><em>

Her wet very short hair was pulled back completely, revealing feminine features Legolas had not noticed she had before. Her nose was crooked, but it fitted her better than a straight one would, thought the elf. Her eyes shone of malice, like a fox's, and her lips always seemed to be smiling, even when her nose wrinkled because she pouted.

All in all, her very appearance inspired treachery and distrust, and yet somehow, what he saw on her face was determination and a sort of _involuntary_ courage he had not known existed before he had met her.

His gaze travelled unwillingly to her ears. The elf often found himself staring at human ears. He could not get over the fact that their tips were rounded and not pointy, and hardily desired to touch _one_ at the very least, to know how they felt. But since he deemed it inappropriate to ask to touch such a sensual part of the body to a woman, and unthinkable to a stranger, Legolas was convinced he would never touch a human ear.

* * *

><p>(back to Irony's POV)<p>

Irony stomach growled as she sat in the water. Hunger had washed away every unpleasant thoughts, and the only thing she could think about right now, was_ food_. All kinds of foods. But not wild berries. She would rather swallow rocks than one more of those fruits. She decided that as soon as the night would fall, she would hunt whatever she found first, and eat it, might it be the elf!

After a long while, when her fingers were wrinkly because of the water, and her clothes possibly dry, Irony left the water barely conscious of her nakedness any more to dress up. She felt heavy without the liquid around her body to support her weight and her wet feet were full of mud after no more than a few steps.

She felt odd. As if something was wrong. As if she was forgetting something important. And before she could figure out what she had forgotten, a hand hold her arm firmly and a finger gently traced the scar down her back. She froze.

"You are the woman with the scar." said Legolas's icy voice.

* * *

><p><strong>So...<strong>

**I am going to be a terrible person and let you hang there for at least a week (or two), to let the tension build in :p  
><strong>


	11. Little Dead Dream

**Little _Dead_ Dream**

"You are the woman with the scar." said Legolas's icy voice.

"I am." she answered, _almost_ shamelessly.

He turned her around so she would have to look at his face. He did not exactly look happy, but neither did he look enraged, and that was good enough already. He was frowning, and disappointed. Irony guessed he would have liked to know about this sooner. But then she would have had to tell him about the globe. The dark sphere she was resolved not to hand to anyone before she had found out what was its power.

"Why are orcs after you? I thought you had a..._neutral_ relationship with them." His hands rested on her shoulders so that she could not turn, or walk away, and he was looking straight into her eyes, making lying harder for her. And making her realise that she did not want to lie to _him_.

"Not exactly...My relationship with Jagah and his orcs was more or less neutral, but my relationship with the others is no different than yours with them." She grimaced a little. "Actually they probably hate me more since I killed those who had 'accepted' me."

"I know orcs," he started, putting his prince face on, the one she knew meant dissatisfaction. "They don't leave grey skies to catch _insignificant_ humans who have crossed them once. They do not care so much about their kin." He stood up straight and put on an even more sever expression.

The word _insignificant_ resonated in her head. She had never though of herself as someone who mattered more than the next person, but _insignificant_? Was that what she was to him? An _insignificant_ human? She felt pain mingle with a little bit of anger spreading to her body, but she fought it back for letting it come out loud would mean she cared about the elf. _And I must not. I mean, I don'!_

"What have you done to draw their wrath? What it is you have that they want so badly?" asked Legolas desperate for an answer.

"Not '_they'_...just _Bolg_." she corrected. That at least, she could let him know.

"Bolg is dead." he answered right away. "You must be taking someone else for him, _again_." He reminded her that she _had_ mistaken Bolg for Azog before. _But not this time_.

Irony shook her head. "Rule n°3, elf: no body, no dead. You should have checked the body, but you didn't." Legolas's brows furrowed more deeply, darkening his elvish features. "I didn't fell in the crowd in Greyrock during the raid. I was beaten up by an orc. And that orc told me Bolg wants my ass." she assured him.

"_Why?" _The word sounded sharp as a blade. And it had almost the same effect as one on Irony, for she found her tongue was like cut and she could not speak. "I will ask you one last time. _Why_ does Bolg want _you_?"

"I don't know!" she shouted, knowing very well her lie was not as convincing as usual. _Rule n°6: Either lie well or not at all, _she reminded herself. _But it doesn't matter. The elf is naïve enough._

"Are you sure?" he insisted.

Irony wondered if the elf suspected something. But she had already lied, and could not back down now. "Sure as grass is green." This time the lie sounded so real, _she_ almost believed it.

The elf seemed somehow disappointed by her answer, then his face closed up, and all emotions disappeared from it. Although, Irony could see he was fighting to look 'normal'. She wasn't sure how to interpret the way he was reacting. The thought that he knew more than he let her know crossed her mind.

"Then we shall not let him have you." He seemed pensive as he looked at the grass. "I'm taking you to Greenwood, to keep you safe there until we learn what is so special about you, Bolg would have orcs leave the grey skies to capture _you_."

"You're taking me to _Mirkwood_?!" she jerked. "But-" Irony shook her head. "What happened to going to _Bree_? _**Strider**_-"

"Strider can wait." he cut. "Bolg, can't. And if you die, how am I to find the ranger?"

* * *

><p>"Legolas..." called Irony, squinting her eyes to see better in front of her. She saw the elf's ears twitch at his name, but he did not turn nor answer. "We should not have cut through the Ghosts Plains..." she complained. He did not react. It seemed he had no intention on paying her any more attention than the day before, the day before the last, and the days before that again. She wasn't sure why the elf was so angry at her, but she supposed it was because she hadn't told him about Bolg sooner. It was none of his business until he had decided to make it his. She had thought about telling him the truth about strider just so they would not go to Mirkwood. But after chewing on it a bit, she had come to the conclusion that if she told him, the elf might very well <em>give<em> her to Bolg instead, so she had kept her mouth shut.

Since he would not acknowledge her presence, Irony decided not to insist any further. Still, she hated the White Plains. They weren't even _plains_, but a rocky mountain's side. Every one called it place the Ghosts Plains and avoided it because of the thick blinding fog, strange noises that could be heard and even stranger shapes that appeared out of nowhere. Irony knew the queer noises were caused by water running under the earth and the scary shapes only weird old dry trees. There was also the legend of the Black Knight. Some said he was a demon. Others said he was the ghost of a mean elf. And others again said _he_ was a _she. _But all agreed the Black Knight was to be feared for he fed on souls.

But There was no ghosts here. Irony knew that because she came from one of the White Plains' three villages: _Bucketdeep._

**_FLASHBACK_**

_Irony stared at the greenish powder there was in the two small boxes she was holding, wondering if she had enough to end her nightmare. And the answer was yes, she had so much __**more**__ than enough. The real problem was that she did not know if she had it in her to use it. Hearing steps coming her way, she quickly closed the boxes and hid them in her pocket._

"_Payn's lookin' everywhere for you." said a voice Irony knew well. Guill came to sit near her, in the old barn, with the hens and donkeys. "He says he's got a gift for you."_

"_More like he wants to stick his worm in me again." she barked. She kicked a hen that had the misfortune to be close by. It did not feel satisfying at all, and left Irony even more frustrated than she had been a few seconds before._

" _'Tis a small price to pay for all the comfort he's given you and your folks, since you've been wed." answered Guill. _

_The boy caressed her cheek with the back of his hand in the hope that it would bring her some comfort, but she pushed his hand away. Irony liked Guill. No. She was in love with Guill, the baker's boy. But since she had been wed to Payn, the rich old man who had come from Kindmoss looking for a second __**younge**__r wife, she felt like even Guill did not understand her any more. And every day she woke up in her marital bed, she died a little bit more in the inside._

"_He's blinded my old folks with silver and only given me pain. His folks chose his name well, it sounds the same. Pain, Payn." she said thinking she loathed her parents as much as Payn. Guill said nothing. "Payn's fucking Tilis too, you know?" she told her lover. She did not care that her husband was cheating on her. If anything she was grateful. That way she did not have to lay with him every night. "He should repudiate me and marry her."_

"_Soon enough none of this lot will matter, little dream." Guill assured her. _

_Exited Irony threw herself on Guill, not caring if she dirtied her ugly rag of a dress. "You'll finally take me out of this hole?When? Let's leave now!" She kissed him here and there so she was happy. She could not stand the fog any more than the people she was surrounded by any more and it was about time Guill fulfilled his promise to take her away._

"_Soon." answered Guill. 'Soon' is all Guill ever answered. Irony wondered if the boy who had promised her she would see the White City one day wasn't full of hollow promises. _If I wait for Guill to take me out of here, I'll wait forever_, she thought._ _She hid her disappointment and decided to keep her smiling façade up, so that Guill would only see the little dream she had been, and not the woman she had become __forcefully, at age 12._

"_Soon." she repeated, faking happiness._ As soon as **tonight**. And **alone**.

_She kissed him deeply for she was convinced it was the last time she would see him. And while she distracted him with her lips, Irony slid one of the boxes in his pocket, hoping he would not find it before the trap had closed around him. _

**_END OF FLASHBACK_**

_The only ghosts in those plains are those of my memories, _she told herself as her past came back to her. Irony often thought about what would have happened if she had been born in Kindmoss, the richest out of the three miserable villages. She would have never met Guill and her parents might not have needed to sell her to feed themselves. _There is no point in ruminating the past now that it has passed._

The silence was so loud, Irony heard a small bird fly over their heads. She thought nothing of it at first. But then, an hour later, another bird flew over their heads. Irony frowned and tried hard not to look behind her. The birds who lived in the White Plains were a rare sight. To see one was exceptional. To see two of them was very unlikely to be a happy coincidence. She suddenly remembered the men from around here sent birds to send each other messages when there were wargs out in the wild, or to communicate their position to other men when they were hunting. _Maybe someone is trying to warn us?_

She observed the elf for a second. He had fastened his horse's trot, and kept shifting position on his horse. _Something is wrong. He feels it too._

Still trotting behind the elf, Irony looked left and right, then quickly glanced behind. If they were being followed, she could not see who or what was following them because of the fog. Which meant that they could not see her either and they used the sounds the horses were making to follow her and Legolas.

She scratched the back of Ibey's right ear, and it made him neigh loudly, like she had hoped it would, like it always did. And she used the noises the horse was making to cover the cracking sounds _she_ was making by grabbing a low blanch and hissing herself up on it, so that the elf, and their potential pursuers wouldn't notice a thing. This way, she would be able to see them, or at least their shadows, from a safe distance when they would walk under her tree. Finding Legolas later would- she had no intention of following the elf. She wanted to go to Mirkwood as much as she wanted to be eaten by a warg. Still, the thought of leaving the elf that way made her feel a slight pinch in the chest. _He can't flee from a warg. Just leave him behind, don't be foolish._

She had waited still perched up in the tree, when a group of ten men walked passed her, silent as shadows. From the tree, and with the fog, she could not see their faces and knew not who they were. But from the sharp angles some the dark shapes she could see, she knew they carried weapons, and that was enough to make them foes to her.

_Legolas should be warned._ But she screamed to alert the him, they would shoot arrows in the threes and one or two might wound her despite the fog. But if she said nothing, the elf might be the one getting shot with arrow.

As soon as they were at a safe distance, Irony climbed down and spied on them like they were spying on the elf. She heard a cage being open and a swift flying sound. _A third bird. It's not a message they are sending, it's a signal they are giving each other! They are more men hiding somewhere!_

Before she could figure out what to do, she heard rocks fly, weapons clench, men run and groan and whine, bones break, horses panic, a loud _**thung**__,_ a lonely cry of pain then all was silent again.

"Do we have 'em?" asked a man.

"I got one with pointy ears, here." answered another. "Still alive, but unconscious." She heard him kick something. It must have been Legolas.

"I care not about the _creature_!" yelled the first man. Irony did not like the tone on which the man said 'creature'. Legolas was a being of Light, different from humans, yes, but not some freak."Who 's got the other one, the _woman_?" he added getting impatient. No one answered. "Well, what you're waiting for? Look around!" he ordered.

Since they were making a lot or noise in their search, Irony climbed up a tree again, just in case they walked as far back as where she stood.

After a while, a man spoke. "She ain't here, Guill." _Guill?!Fuck!I should have protested harder against taking this damn road! A short cut he said! A short cut to death, he must have meant! Damn elf! _

She had not recognised her ex lover's voice. She had oh, so wrongly assumed crossing the White Plains would be simple enough since barely any one ever walked far from the villages for safety reasons.

"The little dream must've fled before we attacked or she'd be laying somewhere around here. And she ain't here." he assured Guill.

"Find her!" shouted Guill.

The men growled and some murmured angrily to one another. Men from the White Plains did not like to be given orders. They liked to think they were their own chief. "The morning we'll send a party. We_ all_ want revenge for those who perished in the fires she started."started a third man. Irony bit her lips. She had not meant to kill any one with those fires, but she had known the risks. She had chosen to burn houses she knew were empty most of the time just so that no one would be hurt. "But tonight we go home. The dark's growing and the past night, trees bled 'round here." All the others seemed to agree with him.

Bleeding trees meant people having been killed, and not by humans. Of course they wouldn't want to stay out here. _Trees bled, _Irony repeated in her head_. Orcs... As soon as they leave, I am running to Wormsknot, I'll be safe from Guill there, and will hear the orcs arrive shall they attempt to raid the village. _She took a deep silent breath._ I can make it._

"What do we do with the elf?" asked someone.

"He's too strong. He killed four of ours and wounded three more. It's only luck if we managed to knock 'im down." said someone else. "We should kill him now, before he wakes and b'come a problem again." he added.

Irony almost screamed to protest. Sure, Legolas was hard to understand since he only said half of what he meant to say, and sure, he could be ice cold and distant, and lacked tact, and was an annoying princeling, and sometimes arrogant and- well, she just did not want him dead. The elf was also kind hearted, could be funny, protective, smart enough for a warrior, calm and sweet, simply adorable when he smiled shyly, and he smelled spring flowers and joy, if joy smelled like anything, and he cursed like an infant and- _And_ _he should get the hell out of my head!The elf be damned!_

"Aye, kill him now!" someone agreed. She bit her lips harder. If they decided to kill him now, even if she interfered, there was nothing she could do to stop them. _I should leave him behind like I had planned. I can't help him!_

"No, he might know where Irony fled to." protested Guill, authoritatively. She felt less guilty for planning on leaving after hearing that. If Legolas lived long enough to come back to consciousness, surely he would be able to free himself. _Wouldn't he? _He didn't need her help. He _never_ needed her help.

"If the other was smart enough to flee before we fell on her, she's smart enough not to come back for that one." pointed out the one who had proposed to kill the elf first.

"No!The elf lives for now!" shouted Guill. "The woman ain't coming back, that's for sure. But this one might _know_ where she's heading, so we may catch her still the morning. If the orcs don't bleed her dry first."

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><p><strong>AN:** Finally updating again! So, the beginning of the romance between Irony and Legolas starts here and will evolve- well you'll see ^^

There will be a more adventure and crazy stuff stuff happening until the end, I must warn you. The ploy got sooo complex so that I could end the story happily! If you thought Irony's life was full of random, unpredictable, unlikely stuff, just _wai_t until you see what's coming _next (in exactly two chapters)_! I am so exited


	12. Lucky Development

**Lucky development**

The wooden roofs were cracking under her feet more loudly than she had expected, making Irony regret she had followed Guill and his men all the way back to Bucketdeep. Good thing there was a drunkard singing louder than a cave troll could scream in the streets, tonight.

Irony lied on her belly and discretely glanced through a fourth window. It was dark inside and she could hear no snoring coming from the room. It seemed empty. She pushed the window open and entered.

She stayed in a corner without moving, the time for her vision to adapt to the complete lack of light. Once she could distinguish forms from one another, she headed for the door. But before she could reach it, what she had thought was an object moved and part of it extended in front of her. She was glad she hadn't had the time to put her foot down or she would have stepped on a pair legs. A pair of legs tied together, and gesticulating to get free. _Well this is a lucky development._

She untied the legs. The shadow seemed to panic a little. She guessed the prisoner could neither see nor hear her.

She took the candle wax enveloped in a tissue his captors had used to suppress his hearing out his ears, removed the blindfold from his eyes, and took out the cloth stuffed in his mouth.

"Wha-? Why- I don't-"

"Trust me elf, me neither." she whispered, irritated. "I usually don't look back, and even less _come back_. It's against rule n°7. Now, shut up! I don't want to be caught." she said as low as she could. Irony sighed, she could not undo the knots that tied his hands. She plunged her hand in her boot, and took out the long knife she had taken from the orc in Greytown.

It was so dark she could not read the expression on his face, but was certain it must have been one of utter confusion. She too was confused, and wondered under what spell she was to have even thought about coming here. There was absolutely nothing she liked about the place, the people here wanted her dead, and Legolas was her captor. She was not supposed to free someone who wanted to put her away. And yet her body moved on its own to do so and everything about it felt right. It all made absolutely no sense to her.

"I was certain you would not come back for me." he told her. She stopped cutting the thick rope to raise a brow at him. _He has to choose __**now**__ to be talkative!_

"Yet, I'm here." she said not so pleasantly. She was angry at herself. Breaking one of her rules was putting herself at the mercy of unnecessary risks. And by being here she was breaking at least eight of them!

"Use the knife's pointy end, it will be easier." he told her when he noticed she still had troubles cutting the knot. Irony wondered if he was being lazy, she was half certain he could break those knots with this absurd strength of his now that they were half cut through. But she did as she was told and it made things easier, indeed. He sure knew a lot more about weapons than about anything else. Was he even interested by anything else?

"Why did you come back?" he asked again pressing for a real answer. Irony snorted then pressed her lips against his for a second. _Because I like you elf!_ She shouted to herself in her head. The thought of it angered her more than she already was. After the man who had thrown her to the orcs to distract them and run for his life, she had thought she had been cured once and for all from that so-called wonderful feeling people called love. And yet there she was, doing something stupid and reckless for yet another male who she had no doubt would use her like the others and make her miserable again.

The elf opened his mouth in shock but thankfully kept silent, despite the fact that there was obviously _so much_ he wanted to ask. But a loud noise of stomping feet were heard and before she could understand what was happening, Irony was thrown against the wall, against which Legolas had been laying back on. The elf had broken his ties and was now standing in front of her, showing her his back, a hand wrapped around a sharp blade. Judging by his position, the blow the elf had stopped with a hand had been meant for her. If he hadn't reacted so quickly, she would have had a blade coming out of her skull right between the eyes.

"Catch Irony!" screamed Guill. It seemed they had been waiting in the neighbouring room, ready to barge in, in case she showed up. And like a fool, she _did_ show up. But weirdly enough, she did not regret having come back for the elf. Not even now that him and her were two against at least ten men. Feeling braver than she had felt before, Irony held her knife in front of her, ready to use it if any shadow with non-pointed ears came to close.

A first man launched himself at her, but never came close enough. The elf sent him flying through the window long before. Following that, all the others attacked them simultaneously. She received a fist in her face, then a knee in the stomach. Another fist came close but she ducked in time. Then someone tried pulling on her hair but they were too short to be held on properly so she was able to slip away from the grip, and just as suddenly as the fighting had started, the fighting stopped. When there was no sound of any more agitation Irony opened her eyes just in time to see Legolas pulling her up on her feet.

She looked around. In all thirteen men were down. Only two of them were still conscious, and whining. The others had all been knocked out. Irony moved away from the elf's grip to search for a familiar face: Guill's face. She found him. He was passed out and judging from the wound on his forehead, it was a hard blow on the head that had knocked him out.

Irony immediately put her knife under his throat with the intention of bleeding him for good so that he would not pursue her any more, and as a warning for the others. But she could feel Legolas's eyes piercing through the back of her head. She wondered how hard he was judging her at the moment. The elf was against killing defenceless people and she was about to murder a man who was as inoffensive as a babe right now. She bit her lips and looked at his right wrist, where his right hand had been. The villagers had cut it when they thought _he_ had stolen the poison and their houses. She bit her lips harder. _I think I have done enough to you. If you want to live or die, Guill, it is your choice, not mine, _she told herself_. _She put the knife back in its sheath then in her boot and stood up. As she walked towards the window, one of the still conscious men caught her ankle with his hand.

"...the elf was one of us.." he said with difficulty. "We planned it..together...in grey town..."

Irony shook her legs. "I'm not stupid, Aren, I know." She remembered the way Legolas had shifted on his horse. And if she had been able to feel their presence so they were close behind, the elf had necessarily heard them. Yet he had said _nothing_. She turned to Legolas. "Follow me."

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><p>(Legolas POV)<p>

"Follow this stream, it will lead you straight to where you belong." said Irony as she untied a donkey with the apparent intention to mount it and leave on her own.

"They are orcs out there, surely you don't intend to ride alone?" asked Legolas, stepping in front of her donkey.

"If I stay here, I'll die. And 'surely' you don't expect me to come with you, after that." she replied cruelly. The elf lowered his gaze. He had expected words like these, but it seemed being aware they would come at him did not shield him from feeling both ashamed and hurt. " Why did you go behind my back? If you wanted me dead, you could have at least had the grace to the do the job yourself." she added. She did not raise her voice but the anger she felt made her pupils shake.

"Aren assured me Guill had no intention to kill you. He said he wanted to take your freedom away, like a robber and an murderer deserve. And since you have done them so many wrongs I thought it only fair that Guill shall have the right to punish you." he admitted. Saying those words made him realise how naïve he had been and how much the woman had been right when she had told him that an elf among humans, was a sheep among wolves, an easy prey to fool for their very nature made them see the good over the bad.

But if he was sorry of the way he had acted, he still thought the female deserved to be punished for all the things she had done. If there was one thing he was certain Aren had not lied about when he had met him in Greyrock, it's the story about how from a 'little dream', Irony had turned into a whole town's nightmare.

The woman had tried to poison her husband but inadvertently caused a woman named Tilis's death instead. Then to make things better, she stole from Tilis's dead body and accused Guill of her crimes, what lead to him having a hand cut off for stealing, and to be beaten up and jailed for being a murderer. And while the whole town was busy torturing the innocent fourteen years old Guill, Irony had robbed many houses from their coins, before burning down three of them to make sure no one would pay her any attention when she fled.

"To convince me further, he told me his friend had stolen something from you, he believed to be powerful, and emanated of dark magic, so that you could not use it selfishly and bring more ruin upon the earth. I did not believe a thing he had told me, at first. Then I saw the mark on your back...And when I asked you for the truth, you lied to me although you knew– _you know_, you can _trust_ me. "

"When did you and Aren-"

"They saw us arrive in town and had followed us in the inn. Aren only spoke to me the night before we were forced to leave. He told me that him and Guill would wait on the road that went trough the White Plains every day for a month, hoping I would do the right thing." he told her. "But there were all lying, just like you." he said with a mix of sadness and anger in his voice, he knew the foxy woman had caught. He wondered if she understood how betrayed him too felt at the moment. "Once they had tied me up, they threw cold water on me so I would wake up to hear them say what they had planned for me, and you if you were caught. They wanted to abuse of you then cut your limbs, and to gut me after having cut off my manhood." he informed her. He had seen death, and fought monsters for longer than he could recall but Legolas had never been so disgusted by anything living being before. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you had killed Guill." he heard himself say. And much to his dismay, he meant it. "Him, and his followers are savages. _You_ may lie, but at the end of the day, you remain better than they are,_ by far_." he added.

"I'm no better than any of them." she said furrowing a brow. She seemed less angry now, but he could feel that his presence unnerved her. "We're _all_ part monster, part saint. Even _you_, as you have just proven. Better put that in your pretty head." she told him.

That unsettled Legolas. "This isn't true." he argued. _What good is there to be found in men who would have enjoyed torturing a woman in the vilest ways? _"The two of us have naught in common with each other, and even less in common with them."

"Aren't I right though?" she threw back at him, putting on her mischievous smile. "_You_ let a village be raided because saving it was too much trouble." she pointed out without making it wound like a reproach. She never made any reproach to any one. And now that Legolas knew of her past he understood why: she could not reproach others with what she had done.

"They were too many orcs." he argued.

"They were no more than seventeen, I counted them." she puffed. He thought it was a smart move to have counted them. That is what soldiers are taught in their first years of training. "I killed one. You killed four, or so you said. We _could_ have come back during during the night and finished them _all,_ one by one, discretely, if we had _wanted_ to. But instead we just went on with our lives." she affirmed. A terrible feeling of guilt took Legolas's body for there was truth in what she was saying. They could have gone back and killed the orcs, had they _wanted_ to. But instead, they had chosen to leave, because it was more accommodating for them and the thought that others might need his help had not even crossed his mind. "We_ all_ are both monster and saint. No need to feel sorry for ourselves, it's just the things are."

Irony kicked the donkey's side to make it walk. Legolas moved to block her way again. "The Orthanc stone." he demanded.

From the look she gave him, he guessed she did not know what he was asking for. Yet, however hesitant she was, she slid a hand under her shirt before taking out some old cloth and unwrap it to reveal a perfectly round pitch black glass-like stone . "What does it do?" she asked examining the object in her hand, without ever touching it directly.

"It shows many things, and most that should never be seen. Presents that may be, pasts that may have been, futures that _may_ come. It so treacherous even the first Dark Lord, who made them, could not tell the truth from the lies it shows."

Irony rolled her eyes. And she must have found the answer he had given her displeasing for she covered the stone again and threw it at him aggressively. He caught it effortlessly, making sure not to touch it directly either and covered it fast, hoping no one was looking at them through another one of those. He was glad the human had had the good sense not to touch it.

"It's only brought me ill luck. You can keep it."

"It might have helped the orcs spread in all of middle earth. They would have known how to fight us, before we even came to know there was a fight to be had." said Legolas staring at the covered object in his hands, amazed at how such a small thing could be the cause of an infernal chaos.

Probably having decided that she cared no more about neither the globe nor him, the woman kicked the donkey to leave again but once more the elf stopped it immediately. "I am still taking you to my father. He shall judge you for having collaborated with orcs to kill elves and human. And for having profaned an elven body." This globe had been in the possession of elves, he knew. All the smaller globe were kept hidden in the elven realms, never to be used. This one must have had been found on an elven corpse.

Irony's face froze for a second. Then furry spread in her eyes. "PAY for that? Pay _again_? I think I've paid quite enough for everything I have done,_ that_ included!" She pointed ta the object. "I paid for it in advance when I was raped by my 'husband'. Then I paid for it when I was beaten bloody by random drunk folks. Then I paid for it again when I was thrown out of the brothel I lived in, in the streets, with _nothing_ on, by the very whores she I thought my _friends_. And _again _when I was made a slave by a man who's life _I had saved_. And _again_ when some magician tried to take my back bones out of me, leaving the scar in back. And _again_, and _again_ and _again_ until a man I loved abandoned me to orcs, saving his life. I think I have paid so much for all I have done, that life _OWES ME,_ now!"

As soon as the words had left her mouth, she calmed down. She looked as thought she felt guilty for for having shared her secrets. Or rather, she regretted having shared all of the misfortune that had happened upon her. Legolas did not know what to say so he was taken aback by all these informations. His brain had ceased to function. Once more he was torn between whether trying to comfort her or not, and she let no indication as to if she would oppose it or not.

Before he could decided on how to react, the human had forced the donkey's reins in his hands, with a calm he did not understand the provenance of. He blinked a few times and remained unable to speak for a small while, during which she stared at him blankly, as though she could not care less about all that had happened to her, and about what was going to happen to her in Greenwood.

"Aren't you angry?" he asked, astonished. "After what I have done, after I have taken _vice's hand_, you would still follow me without putting a fight?"

As the words came out of his mouth the violence of the situation suddenly hit him. He had taken vice's hand and...he remembered Guill having called the word 'irony' when he had ordered his men to attack the woman. _Is 'irony' her name?_ It couldn't be. It was not a word meant to be used as a name. And if that was her name...what did the clairvoyant mean by standing between irony's thighs? He tried hard to remember if the word had been written with a capital 'I' or not. If it had he wasn't sure he wanted to keep on living at all. The woman was..well, human for once. And mortal for twice. And cruel, and untrustworthy, and rude, and impolite, and graceless, and stubborn, and she made fun of him all the time, and her nose wrinkled when she frowned and that was cute, and she laughed a lot, not delicately, but with honesty and he liked the sound of it. She was also tenacious, and clever. He had thought her eyes were too small, her crooked nose coarse, and her lower lip too plumb at first. But now, her eyes had a light in them he quite like, her nose gave her character, and her lips were soft when they met his. His thoughts were disturbed by the woman's voice.

"Fight against your will? For what purpose? Being knocked out? Getting new bruises? As if I didn't have enough of those!" she exclaimed with her usual nonchalance. " And_ I am_ angry. But not at _you_, at myself. I used to know better who not to trust with so much as a handful of my hair." she added, coldly.

The elf stared at her for a while, looking for forgiveness on her face, but he found only indifference. He could find it in his heart to let her go her way now that he knew what she had endured, but decided not to for life might just take another greedy bite at her, and after almost being the cause of her death, he felt compelled to make it up to her.

After a silence growing more uncomfortable by the second, Irony spoke again. "Shall we go, then? The faster we get there, the faster I'll get _out _of there."

"About everything that happen to you I-"

"Shit happens." she cut him. She did sound so cold any more. But there was none of her usual teasing in her tone. "Then you move on to the next thing. That's life."

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><p><span>AN: I don't say it often enough, but THANK YOOU for reading, and for the favs, and follows, and reviews, they are all vgreatly appreciated ;)


	13. Slower than the Donkey

**Slower than the donkey**

Irony couldn't breathe any more because of all the running. Legolas who had been pulling on her arm with a hand to force her to keep going had now released her because her face had turned blue from the lack of air. She inhaled briskly at short intervals of time, while the donkey who had finally caught up with them went to stand by a tree.

Legolas stood in front of her, showing her his back to shield her from the unavoidable danger that was closing on them. He threw a hand back, looking for a weapon, forgetting he did not have his short swords any more. Irony recognised fear through the aggravated stiffness of his body and it was not helping her regaining her calm.

An arrow flew not so far from her head, to pass her and plant itself in the tree behind her. The elf glanced back to make sure she was still alive. "Run away with the donkey!" ordered the elf with a coarse masculine voice, without looking at her.

"I run faster than the damn donkey!" she yelled back. She could hear _the others_ running and coming towards them. The confrontation was imminent. Irony's heart beat faster, and was now so loud, she was certain the elf could hear it.

"Then run!" He shouted impatiently. Shadows could be seen. "Or hide! And don't come back out unless I call for you!" he told her. She wished she could run, but her legs wouldn't move. Why wouldn't they move!? "I'll find you, later." he assured her, absolutely unconvincingly.

"You won't have eyes to find her, elf. Nor even a head." threatened a unfriendly voice.

"I can't move..." The words came out of Irony's mouth making her sound less scared than she actually was. Legolas killed the orc who had spoken as fast as he could, took the filth's weapon with in addition to his, then pushed Irony with a foot, making her fall behind the donkey. She held her knees with her arms, trying to make herself smaller than she was, hoping, no orc would remember she was even here.

At first, her being silent was efficient; the orcs cared only for the elf. She could hear them fight and pictured the fight in her head; an orc attacked, the elf blocked, pushed the filth on another orc and while they gathered themselves back up, Legolas killed or wounded a third one. Then she heard more and more swords clashing together, and groans and whining getting louder. Then there was a scream of pain so terrible it made her bones shake.

The donkey suddenly fell. It had been cut in half. Irony was covered in stinking blood and intestines but worse, she could be seen and an orc was already behind her. The ugly creature grinned cruelly at her, however, before he could reach for her, his head rolled down of his shoulders to fall between her legs. She stared at it. The jaw had dropped open and almost as much blood came out from the opened mouth than from the neck. Disgusted, she kicked it away, thinking she should have never suggested to make way to Kindmoss.

"Bolg" she heard Legolas say with hatred. She turned. The elf was holding a different sword in each hand. One of his arms shook terribly. It seemed to be hurting enough for it to be a nuisance. Seven orcs were dead, laying on the floor. The others, still standing, had taken a few step back from the elf and Bolg stood tall and cruel over the immortal creature of light.

* * *

><p><em>EARLIER<em>

"_You are slower than the donkey." complained Irony furrowing both brow. Her voice sounded broken because the movements of the donkey under her were rougher on her than she had expected. "And the donkey is half dead." she added, irritated this time. She hated the donkey, but mainly because it came from Bucketdeep. _

"_Are you so eager to be locked up in a dungeon ?" replied the elf, a discreet mocking smile on. _

_Irony growled."It's too soon for you to joke with me, elf." she told him, glaring. "Yesterday night I could have died." She looked at him more intensely. "because of you." She turned to look in front of her, preferring to stare at the fog than at the elf's annoying face._

"_I apologise." answered Legolas, solemnly. "I did not mean to-"_

"_Roah! Save it!" she cut, annoyed. He had only opened his mouth to apologise for about everything and anything since they had left Bucketdeep and it was getting on her nerves. His apologies sounded like a very repetitive and boring song to her. Besides, he could be sorry all wanted, it did not change the facts."Just tell me why you are so slow." she demanded._

"_The injury on my hand is healing much slower than it should."started the elf, looking at his hand. Irony remembered that he had gotten it by catching a blade that would have gone through her skull, hadn't he reacted fast."The pain is insufferable."he said trying to close his hand in a fist, but failing. Irony glanced at the wound. The gash seemed deep, and suspiciously yellow. "It makes me feel feverish and weakens me strongly per moment."_

"_How did you knock them all out then?" she answered, thinking he was faking pain too attract some sympathy. _

"_Adrenaline." he said. He sighed. "Vengeance." he added lowering his eyes. "Saving you from them." That he said looking right into her eyes, and his ears turned pink. It made her feel a tiny bit guilty for having been cold to him. She hadn't considered the fact that, in the end, __**he**__ had saved her life. Again. He owed her nothing, and she owed him thanks for it. "Show me." she said, stopping the donkey. The elf stopped walking to hold his hand out to her. Irony examined the wound. It was infected, what justified the yellowish colour at the extremities. But no normal cut made the skin around it turn violet and orange. It looked like he had been burned badly. _

"_The illness.." she sighed._

"_Elves don't catch illnesses." Legolas told her sounding more elven than ever. Irony rolled her eyes._

"_It's not an actual illness. It's a sort poison." she told him._

"_Elves are immunized against human poisons too."_

"_It's not exactly a poison either." she said resigning to having to explain to him what 'the illness' was."It is a strong parasite that feeds on the flesh and fights against the immune system of the body, lowering the chances of healing." she told him. "Elf flesh can get be eaten, cant' it?" she asked him sarcastically._

"_I thought it was too soon for jokes." he growled._

"_It is too soon for __**you**__ to make jokes." she told him. "__**I**__ get to make fun of you as much as I want." With her thumb she pressed the side of the wound, what made the elf wince in pain. " Don't act like a babe, my finger barely brushed the gash." She frowned a little at the wound when pus came out of it. "We need to disinfect it...with fire."_

"_Fire?!" he jerked taking his hand away from her._

"_That is how you kill the parasite: fire. Humans die from it often, and I bet you could too if the parasite reproduces itself faster than you heal." she warned him. Judging from his grimace, she had scared him a little. "You will soon suffer from vertigo if you don't take care of it __**with fire**__." she insisted. Irony took his hand again, to see just how infected it was. "We should stop in Kindmoss, it's not so far away now. Only another two days of walking from here."_

"_But if we keep walking, we'll reach my realm's borders in a week time." argued the elf. Irony purposely pressed her thumb against the wound's side again. The elf cursed in his tongue and it made her laugh._

"_A real princess, aren't you?" she said, grinning. "Kindmoss is that way." Not waiting for Legolas to argue, she kicked the donkey so that it would turn in towards the village. The elf followed without saying a word._

* * *

><p><em>BACK TO THE PRESENT<em>

"Hmfgh" groaned the elf as he received Bolg's elbow in the the face with such violence it made his nose and lips open and bleed. Irony was glad she was not the elf right now. Bolg seemed determined to kill him, and was harder to wound than normal orcs. The monstrous orc was a giant bag of hard muscles covered by an even harder skin. The elf's body could endure a lot, but cut open more easily.

Hearing Legolas groan in pain made her wish she could do something to help. But her muscles-less arms would not do much damage on the wall that Bolg was. And there was no doubt that she would be more a bother than a relief to the elf if she went to stand beside him.

The prince lost his balance, fell, and had to roll to the side to avoid being kicked. He had trouble standing back up, and only used one arm to help himself up. Irony thought about the wound again. She hopped he would not have a fever, right now. But judging by the inefficiency of his attacks, she could tell he was weakened by the illness.

Irony received a kick in the back. She fell on her four, in the donkey's spilled inside. Angry, she grabbed one of the bloody organs ans threw it at the creature's faces. The blood in his eyes blinded him, giving Irony the time to take the decapitated corpse's sabre and plunge it in the orc's eye. The orc groaned, then fell. She took the sabre out of his head, and spun around. As soon as she had turned, another orc's sword aimed at her face. Having had the reflex to protect herself, the sabre she held blocked the blow to her surprise. Then she blocked a second one, and a third one, before a fist met her jaw, and another knocked her down.

She crawled backwards, avoiding the sword slashing at her, until her back was against a three and she could not escape any more. She shielded her face with her arms and closed her eyes, waiting for her skull to be open in two, thinking she wished the black knight was real. She would sell her soul for really cheap right now.

She had heard that the last seconds of someone's life were the slowest, and the rumour was right. Irony felt like the blow meant to end her life was taking an eternity to fall upon her. An eternity during which she thought about nothing but how much she felt alive and wanted to remain so. And about the last time she had kissed the elf. His lips were soft and had been rather welcoming that time.

She never felt the blow. Yet, after a while she did not feel the cold breeze on her skin any more, could not smell the donkey's rests putrid odour, and could not hear the steel clash nor the orcs cheer, nor the elf groan. She could not feel _life_ around her around. She felt nothing.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. Around her, every one seemed to have frozen in time. Actually, it was time that seemed to have frozen them. No one moved nor breathed, and every one was stuck in mid-movement. Only a man dressed in a full black armour moved.

Looking unconcerned, he shifted his wait from one leg to the other as he looked around him.

He was the most beautiful being Irony had ever set eyes upon. He had delicate, yet, manly traits. His hair was long, wavy, and so black it swallowed the light around it. His ears were as pointy as Legolas's, and his eyes were colder, bluer and more piercing by far. But what held her gaze were his thin lips curled into a cruel and dark smile. He was handsome, but mostly _terrible_, she realised.

"One must have done dark deeds to be able to call upon darkness." said the apparition. Or was he real? Irony wasn't sure. Nothing seemed real. The fog had disappeared somehow, and the ground, the trees, the orcs, and even Legolas, looked like they belonged to another world. Irony wondered if she had taken a vicious hit on the head at some point. "And one must be in great need to call upon a greater power for help."

The handsome creature touched the orc that stood above her with his sword only a few inches away from her head. Somehow, the Dark Knight's hand went through the filth's body as if it had been water, and the orc vanished in a dark smoke. The apparition breathed in the black fume, closing his eyes, seemingly enjoying himself. Then he focused on Irony again. "How may I help you, human?" he asked with honey in his voice.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Héhéhé.


	14. Are you calling me cheap?

**Are you calling me _cheap_?**

"How may I help you, human?" he asked with honey in his voice.

"Save me." answered Irony, without taking the time to think. A voice inside her head told her she ought to be scared. But the situation was way too peculiar for Irony to be frightened. The Black knight was obviously dangerous, but as far as she knew, he might not even be real.

The knight smiled a little then cocked his head to the side. "I can." he told her. He extended his hand to her, to help her up. "If you offer me something worth the trouble." Irony had extended her hand to take his, but decided to stand on her own after hearing that.

She used the tree to pull herself to her feet. "What do you want from me?" she asked him, wiping the donkey's blood off her face. His cruel smile grew wider. He had obviously been waiting for her to ask that question.

Yet did not give her an answer right away. Instead, he circled her, looked at her up and down, took her chin between his index and his thumb to look at her from close. Then he released her, turned, walked to Legolas and put his hands on the elf's shoulders. "A life for a life." said the black knight.

Irony furrowed a brow as she analysed the situation. In front of her stood a ….'greater power" who claimed she had called upon him, who had seemingly stopped time before she was cut in half, and who was offering to save her life if she...killed the elf in exchange? And how was she supposed to accomplish that? Legolas was twice her size in both inches and muscles, a trained warrior and an elf and she was...well, human and definitively not stupid enough to engage in such a confrontation.

Unless, she could kill him while he time kept him frozen. The elf did not seem like he was conscious at the moment, he looked like a emotionless statue, so he would probably not feel a thing let alone _know_ he was dying. It was a reasonable option. But unfortunately, it was not one she could bring herself to take for when she looked at the elf, all she wanted was to protect him the best she could.

" No. I want you to save him too." she heard herself say. She wished she eat back those words, for they revealed, to her dismay, that she valued the elf over herself. _Think before you speak, you silly girl!_

After that answer, the apparition examined Legolas from closer than he had examined her. He seemed to understand why she would not give him up so easily. "A life for a life." he repeated without even glancing at her. "And you have none other than his to offer me."

"I can give you orcs. All of those here." she replied immediately pointing at the ugly creatures around them. She would even kill them without weapons if he asked t of her. At this point, there was nothing she was not ready to do to get out of this mess_ alive_, with Legolas.

"Orcs come _cheap_." he said looking down at Bolg without interest. He traced the monster's swords sharp edge with a gloved hand like one would caress a lover. "And what poor soul they have is already mine by rights." He looked at her again. "Only untainted souls can be given to me for I do not have the power to reach for them any more."

"Would my soul make up for his?" asked Irony. She doubted she would be able to go as far as to sacrifice herself for the prince, but she was curious to know if the option existed.

The Black Knight laughed out loud. "Would you settle for a copper if you could have a golden coin instead?" He did not wait for her to answer. "No, you wouldn't." He shook his head. "And like I said, untainted souls are those I am interested in."

_Are you calling me a cheap too, ass-hole? s_he thought, but did not say. "If I killed the elf for you right now, what guarantee do I have that you would not..._inhale_ me like you did the orc a minute ago." she asked him.

The knight sighed. "As you seem to have understood, your soul_ is_ tainted. And that is why I heard your call for help. _Unfortunately_, you are not a creature of darkness and therefore, even if I _can_ kill you, I could not feast upon your soul for it also must be given to me." His cold eyes focused on her so intensely she felt like a target about to be shot with an arrow. "I will make you an offer you may find very generous; give me the elf, and I will save your life, get you rid of all those...mindless beasts and even grant you the strength of five men for the rest of your short life. And of course, the day you perish, your soul shall come to me."

_If he asks __**me **__to kill the elf for him, it must mean that creatures of darkness cannot give him souls, or he would have Bolg do it, _she supposed_. If I am right, I can get use that and get a far better deal, _she thought, fighting the urge to smirk.

"No."she shot back, looking dead serious.

"Then feel free to die along with your friend." he answered, his cruel smile back on. He turned and started walking away.

"You won't let me die." she shouted after him. It sounded like an order. "And you _will_ help the elf too." she added. She seemed to have picked his curiosity; the black knight stopped and turned to her again.

"Will I ?" he asked, graciously raising a brow.

"Yes, you will." She took a deep breath, hopping her plan would work. "I'll make you a deal that will satisfy _both_ of us." She paused. "Save the elf, save me, make me immortal and...and I will sacrifice to _you_ my two first born." The apparition's face did not show any interest, nor anything else, as he stared at her silently. "Just born babes have untainted souls don't they?" she asked, trying to trigger a reaction.

"Tempting." He walked to her and brought his face close to hers. So close she could feel his glacial breath on her skin. Her legs shook from both the cold that emanated from him and her heart beat faster for she feared her plan would not work. It was so simple. And maybe the Black Knight could read thoughts and had read hers.

"Two lives would save yours and the elf's. But immortality will cost you more." he told her. Irony had expected something like that. No bargain was ever easy.

"How much?"

The apparition's cruel smile reappeared, crueller and colder than before. "I have seen your future through a wise stone. You are meant to have many strong, healthy children." he told her as if to congratulate her. "I shall have_ all_ of their souls. _And_ your soul, if you were to be slain by either a hand or an illness."

Irony wondered if the object he called a 'wise stone' was the one Legolas had told her about. What had the elf said about it again? That it showed the future? It probably wasn't that, or it had lied for she was sterile and there was no cure for it. Or, maybe the knight was lying about having seen her future. He was certainly thinking himself smart for doing so, when truly, he was only tricking himself.

"All right." she agreed, pretending to be reluctant to take the deal to arise no suspicion.

Looking satisfied, the knight took off a glove, and put his cold hand on her belly. She shivered but did not wrench back from his touch. "To ensure you fulfil your part, I will curse your womb _now_ so that every child that grows in it comes to me before even its first breath."

Irony bit her lips. The thought of dead babies growing in her belly was more than unpleasant. But it would not happen. It _could_ not happen. Or could it? What if he hadn't lied, and she was to be with child? What _she_ was being tricked?

"Will it hurt?"

"Terribly so." he replied smiling

* * *

><p>The fowl smell of blood and death is what brought Irony back to consciousness. Her eyes opened, but her vision was blurry. She did not know how long she had been unconscious. In her ears rang a strident noise that covered a familiar voice. Even her own whining, she could not hear properly because of it. Her brain felt like it was melting, and the pain she felt in her womb was so intense she could not move her legs, nor even speak.<p>

She could feel friendly hands cupping her cheeks, trying to get her to focus, but she could not. Even thinking was too hard a task right now.

"Irony are you alright? Irony? Irony can you hear me?" asked Legolas. Irony managed a weak nod. She came to understand that if her vision was so blurry, it was because her eyes were full of tears. "You are loosing a lot of blood..._too much_. Where is your wound?" although he spoke slowly, the elf sounded panicked. "Where is it?" he insisted. "I can't find your wound. Irony?"

She could not answer. She moved a hand shakily and touched the apex of legs, and it made her fingers feel wet. Wet with blood.

The thought that the black knight had tricked her and was currently trying to consume her soul crossed her mind.

Her vision blackened...

...All there was left was blackness, a cold ghost of a breeze and Legolas calling her name.

Then her consciousness faded.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** Thank you for reading the story so far!I have begun to leave informations here and there that may seem irrelevant but will be important for the grand finale! I hope the story and Irony never cease to surprise you in best of ways!

know I am always open to suggestions for the intrigue if you have any!

And my special thanks to Ainele-fin-de-siecle for the heart melting review and to NightlyRowenTree for the support!


	15. Patient like a hungry ferret

**Patient like a hungry ferret  
><strong>

(Irony POV)

Irony woke at the elf's voice calling her this time. The pain she had felt had sustained but its ghost remained and haunted both her body while the fear to die she had felt still haunted her mind. She curled into a foetus position without saying a word. The bed she laid in was soft enough, and a pillow was as hard as a bag of rice.

Only a human nurse and Legolas were in the room with her. The nurse stood by the door, and the elf sat on a chair near the bed on which she was laying. She guessed they were in Kindmoss. Going back to Bucketdeep would have been too dangerous, and Wormsknot was the further away village from where they had been attacked.

"How are you feeling?"he asked her.

_Like I have made a mistake. A BIG one_. Irony did not answer. She was lost in her thoughts. If she was still alive, and the elf too, it meant that the Black knight was real, and that the deal she had made with him was real too. She tightened her legs together. They did not feel wet with blood any more. They were dry and clean, and that was comforting.

She observed the elf. His elbow rested on his knees, and although he tried to appear calm, Irony could see that he was rather agitated. But who wouldn't be after what had happened to them? He stared at the floor, pensive, and his fingers twitched nervously. Irony guessed there was something he wanted to ask her, but was not sure how.

She smile interiorly at the sight of the slightly decomposed elf. His green tunic was stained with blood, the laces of one of his boots were half undone, and his brows were furrowed with confusion. She understood how he felt. When they had fled from Greyrock, they had both felt the adrenaline and satisfaction procured by a good fight. This time was different. This time the fight had been gore, and left them both sore and emotionally exhausted.

Absent mindedly she put a hand on top of his. The gesture must have given him some courage for after the long and heavy silence, Legolas spoke. "I brought you here as fast as I could. You kept bleeding and the healers could neither find the cause of it, nor stop it. The haemorrhage eventually sustained on its own." Irony had no answer to that. " Do you remember what happened to you while I was fighting Bolg?"

"No." she murmured. It was a lie. And it was an obvious one.

"Are you sure?" he asked, softly yet insistently. "I remember feeling...a presence...a shadow..._cold_ take over all of my body." he said shivering. "Did you feel it too? Did you see anything?"

"No." she lied again, releasing his hand.

She wondered how the Dark knight had contributed to saving Legolas without him knowing it. The fight between Legolas and Bolg had obviously ended by the orc's death. And this time, surely he would have checked the body was empty of life a dozen times. But that did not gave her a clue about what had happened exactly, and she could not ask Legolas about it for that would mean talking about the apparition, and she thought it better not to scream it on roofs that she had made a pact with someone who might very well be the devil.

She wondered if Legolas would know who the Knight was. After all, they both had pointy ears.

Suddenly, Legolas forced her head towards him not so unkindly so that she would look at him in the eyes. "I worry for your health and do not mean to be insensitive, but...Can you walk? We have lingered here for too long. I am afraid Guill and his men might come find us soon. I can carry you if need be, I was cured from the parasite Guill had infected me with."

That was a good question. Could she walk? She moved out of his grip to sit. Then hesitantly, she stood. She had expected her legs to shake or to fall down miserably but standing up was no harder that it had ever been before. She took a step forward. Then another. And another. And another. And realised that she did not feel any less _mortal_ than before. But since the elf and her were alive, the black knight_ must_ have honoured his part of the deal. Or so she hoped.

"I can walk." she told Legolas smirking. She had expected one his quick shy smiles, but his face showed no indication of anything at the moment. His eye did not show much more as he examined her carefully from head to toe.

"Something about you has changed," he said on a serious tone. "I can feel it." he added with a cracking voice. He stared at her for while waiting for an answer, but when she gave none, he stood. "I have found us a decent horse. We should reach Greenwood The Great by tomorrow's sunset if we ride fast and make no stop." He headed to the door. "We leave at sundown. Shall you need anything before we leave, let me know."

The nursed followed him out and closed the door being her.

Feeling a sudden chill run down her spine, Irony put a hand on her womb. It felt unnaturally cold to the touch. She rubbed it a little, then poked it a few times to confirm it did not hurt any more. Then she stuffed her boots with her feet, noticing her dagger had gone missing.

"I guess I _do_ need something, but I can't ask it of you."she told herself, determined to find herself a new weapon before leaving.

* * *

><p>(LEGOLAS POV)<p>

As soon as they saw the Godtree not so far from the frontier with Greenwood, Irony jumped off from behind him, ran to the tree and began to climb it. He had gotten only one horse this time, so that the woman would not be able to leave him unnoticed again. He thought he fact that she had been able to hiss herself up in a tree without him hearing it ridiculous. No one had slipped through his hands like that before. She truly had a lot of experience when it came to running away and hiding.

She seemed to feel a lot better today. The ghost of the pain that had haunted her face the days before had completely disappeared.

Glad that at least one of them had recovered from the trauma of her haemorrhage, Legolas did not protest against her climbing the tree despite not finding it wise. She was human: she could slip and knock herself unconscious. Or worse, break her neck and die. _  
><em>

How she had survived the night he had killed Bolg was a mystery to him. The last time he had glanced at her while caught fighting Bolg, Irony was sitting on the ground, back against a tree and an orc was about to cut her in two halves. Then he felt a terrible cold creep inside him, and the rest of the night took an unexpected turn.

Somehow his fever had gone, and he had felt no more pain nor soreness from his gaping wounds. If anything, he had felt an intense rush of adrenaline, and found he was stronger than he had ever been before. Thanks to that miraculous strength, he had succeeded on killing Bolg rather easily. And once he had been done with the disgusting beast who had taken his mother's life, he realised they were less orcs surrounding him than they had been before. But that might have been his imagination. He killed all of the foul creatures that still lived, then his sudden strength left his body as suddenly as it had come to him, and he found Irony curled up on herself, with more of her blood spilled on the ground than running in her veins.

He had been certain she would have died. And the thought of her being taken away so cruelly from the world had made him cursed Eru once or twice. _No one should die before having truly enjoyed life, _he told himself as he observed her climb the tree. Strangely enough, _he_ was quite enjoying life at the moment. There was something peaceful and agreeable about this simple moment. He had no other responsibility than to ensure the human lived. Granted, death and troubles clung to her children to their mother, but _thankfully you are as hard to kill as a cockroach, _he thought._ I am quite certain if your head was to be cut off you would still live for weeks without it before dying._

Sighing, he unhorsed as well, and headed to the Godtree.

Godtrees were said to be the first trees to have been grown by the Valar. This one was exactly the same as all the other Godtrees he had seen: it had a thick white trunk, dry branches like arms, no leaves and its trunk was empty inside, but you could only notice that last detail if you climbed it all the way to the top. When it rained, water filled the trunk and he had heard that humans priests believed the water taken from there purified souls. But Legolas, like all the other elves, knew it did nothing of the sort. And Irony knew too he supposed. She did not believe in any god, may they be good gods, damned gods, human gods, eleven gods or others... yet she still she cursed all of them when she was angry.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding more impatient, than actually was.

"I'm climbing up a tree. Duh!" she answered. Then she looked down at him and she grinned, showing him all of her teeth, obviously knowing her answer would annoy him.

"I can see that." he growled. Legolas touched the tree, and wondered if he should climb after her. Then he looked at the horse, and remembered they had some other place to be, and little time to waste.

"Then why do you ask?!" she yelled at him, sounding amused. He knew just how much she liked to tease him. And thought he reacted too widely to it every time. He wished she had less effect on him. He wanted to yell something back at her, but she was struggling to stand still on a thin branch, and he did not want her to fall, so he kept his words stuffed in his mouth.

"There is only little water left..." he heard her murmur to herself. " 'makes no difference, I'm pissing in it!"

"You will _not_ piss inside a Godstree!" he shouted, while Irony began to unlace the front of her pants, not minding him. He glared at her. This savage act would be most disrespectful and profaning the Valar's work would certainly not help get her on their good side.

"Oh piss off, elf!" she growled staring back at him with her wicked eyes. Then a cute frown formed on her face, causing the skin on her nose to wrinkle, and she laced her pants closed. Legolas allowed his face muscles to relax, and himself to trust that she would now climb down so they could leave. But instead, she spit in the water four times between curses directed to the gods, then roared in laughters, plainly satisfied with herself. _It is sad to know that I have met better mannered goblins..._

"_Why_ did you do that?" he asked, exasperated by her behaviour.

"Why-AAH-" The branch cracked under her weight and she slipped. The elf's brain had not had the time to process that Irony was falling, that his body had moved and he now held her in his arms. And she was a lot heavier than she looked.

He stared at her while she took her time to crack open one eye with hesitation, then the other, looking as happy as one could be for being alive. Legolas had to fight back the urge to shake her hard in order to knock some sense into her. But his body betrayed him and instead, he tightened his grip on her, as though he was afraid she would fall from his arms and break in millions of tiny pieces.

"That was the gods punishing you, just now." he scolded her. "You could have died!" He felt more angry than he should be.

"It's not like you would weep if I died." she growled, squirming to get out of his grip, and failing. The way she distanced herself so fast from everything that happened to her had never annoyed him more than now. So, he released her at once, and she landed on her buttocks. He felt a little bit guilty about having done that when she groaned then ineffectively tried to rub the pain off her butt, all the while offending his ears by cursing in the dark speech.

"You don't know how your death would affect me." he tried to say with as much disinterest than se had used when she spoke. "You don't know the first thing about me."

"Don't I?" she asked smirking. That question puzzled him a little. "One learns more by being around someone, than by talking to them." she assured him.

"What have learned about me then?" he challenged her with.

"I know you are a prince." she said shrugging.

"Even _Bolg_ could could have told you that." Talking of Bolg made him think that if Irony had not been hurt, he would have triple checked the body, instead of only having double checked it.

Irony raised a brow and picked up the challenge. "Alright, here's what he might not have known: you like to _listen_ better than to talk. You like to share what you have. You like animals more than most humans. You like having stars over your head better than a roof."

Legolas could not help but feel flattered that she had noticed all that, despite '_all that' _being obvious enough for about any one to notice.

Irony kept going. "You're also arrogant, dislike it _wildl_y when things don't go your way and usually have the patience of a hungry ferret." That made him scowl, but he did not argue, for there was some truth in her arguments. "You also enjoy eating porridge _only_ when topped with honey. And you have a queer fascination for ears."

"I never-"

"Don't try to deny it," she cut him. He started to wonder seriously if she was gifted with telepathic abilities. "I caught you starring at my ears more than once!" she accused.

He felt his face flush with embarrassment for having been caught at that."How-"

"I'm very observant." She shrugged. Then reached fast to touch _his_ ear.

At first, Legolas froze at the contact then quickly pushed her hand away, cursing in his tongue. "Don't do this!" he exclaimed covering his ear with a hand. "Touching an elf's ear is a very intimate gesture." he explained. It seemed to only make the crazy woman want to touch his ear more for she reached for the other one, more determined than ever.

"Stop it!" he shouted, annoyed before covering his other ear with his other hand. Irony was now trying to remove his hands from his ears, laughing out loud, while he struggled to protect them from her. "I said stop it!" he growled again, but still not convincingly enough for her to stop. He made him feel and act like a child. And she acted like on too: she was biting one of his arms hoping it would hurt him enough for him to uncover his ear. "That's it, I've had enough! Watch out for _your_ ears!" he shouted, before grabbing the tip of one of her ears.

She stopped gesticulating to stared at him, blankly, as if waiting for something to happen. The fact that she did not seem bothered at all by him touching her _ear_, took Legolas aback. Weren't human ears as sensitive to the touch as elven ears? Weren't ears considered a sensual and private part of the body for humans as it was for elves?

At this point Legolas cared not if it were the case or not, for his fingers were already tightly, but gently, wrapped around the intimidatingly _round_ ear. Though he would not admit it, he _had_ stared at her ears, and at other humans' ears, many, many, many times, always wishing to have the opportunity to touch one to satisfy his curiosity. Humans ears were abnormally _round_ for the Valar's sake! And some mortals even had pierced ears! He thought of it as an atrocious mutilation and didn't quite understand why would anyone think it attractive but it made him curious nonetheless.

Fascinated, he rubbed his fingers against the rounded ear, ignoring that Irony was eyeing him like one would a mad man. When he slowly brushed the ear's side from top to bottom with a finger, it _twitched_, making him gasp with delight. "Your ears are so round!" he told her, still amazed. Never before had he seen a rounded ear from this close.

"Is that the only thing you've noticed about me after _all_ that time?" she laughed. They hadn't spend as much time together as she made it sound from the elf's point of view. But he guessed that for a human, a year and a few months must seem long period of time.

Feeling defied, Legolas let go of her to stand straight like the prince he ought to act as."I have also noticed you care for me more than you should." he said giving her one of her own devilish smirks.

For once, the human was speechless.

Still grinning, the elf glanced at Irony's ears one last time, then left her side to find their horse. He would have to set it free before crossing the frontier.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** : I was MP-ied to know if Irony had died so I thought I should post this chapter now x) As you can see Irony is well, rested and still mortal. Or is she immortal now? hmm, I wonder (èvé) ... I mean, it would be too easy if she was..Still the Black Knight did tell her he would make her immortal. But was he telling the truth? And even if he had made her immortal, he might very have hidden a few unpleasant details about her newly acquired immortality (if he has made her immortal)...just saying...


	16. Golden Freaks

**Golden Freaks**

Irony regretted having drunk so much water the morning. Now, she had to slip away from the elf for the fifth time today, to make her water, hidden in sick looking bushes she could only hope would not trigger some sort of allergic reaction, and was not hiding anything like the creepy scorpion like creature she had seen a few mile miles away. _Mirkwood, was not nicknamed that for nothing_. Everything about this forest was scary. The trees grew tall and wide, hiding the sun and casting their dark shadows on the floor. The mushrooms had weird colours that made all of them look poisonous. She hadn't seen any sign of living animals anywhere although they were plenty of dead ones, the path they followed was discontinuous and seemed to be trying to loose them, but the worst was that almost everything was covered with white sticky threads, making the wood look like one giant spider net.

"What a plague it is than to have to pee." she growled to herself as she squatted to pee. Since she had woken up in Kindmoss after the haemorrhage, she had developed an insatiable thirst and a monstrous craving for red meat. Unfortunately, there was nothing else to eat than crawling bugs and deformed fruits here. But maybe it was for the best. Since the more water she drunk, the thirstier she became, Irony was glad she could not put her hands on any sort of meat for she feared her craving would amplify like her thirst.

When tying the knots of her pants, she noticed dirt and green leaves fall from above her. Naturally, she looked up. And was she saw struck by both horror and fascination for nothing in her life had prepared her for_ that._

She made no move and held her breath the time for the shadow to pass, then broke into a sprint to find the elf comfortably laying against a tree trunk, relaxing, as though unaware there was nothing relaxing about Mikwood.

"...elf!" she called him once she stood over him. He opened his eyes lazily. "I _may_ have seen a spider." she started. That seemed to alarm him for he stood in a split second, reflexively reaching for his sword. "But considering it was about about the size of a bear, it might have been a bear...only with eight not so hairy legs and a head like a spider's." she finished.

"Where is it?" he asked. His eyes had become those of a cold blooded killer again, and scrutinised the leaves for any sign of movement.

"Uh, gone!" she exclaimed after having purposely let the tension build inside him. "I wouldn't be standing here _right now_ if the...that _thing_ had seen me."she added. The elf furrowed a brow, annoyed, then released his sword.

"We should get going. It might come back this way." he said before making his way ahead. Irony stared at him walking away for few seconds, thinking that Mirkwood was actually the perfect environment to allow a sweet escape and hide from the elf. Then she heard a noise and trotted fast to catch up with him, deciding that she would rather be locked in an elven dungeon for the rest of her life, than spend one hour alone in those woods.

"Is everything that grows in this forest a hundred times bigger than it should be?" she asked, when she caught up with him.

The elf chuckled at her bewilderedness. "_I_ am not a hundred times bigger than I should be." he replied. Lowering his eyes to look at her.

_Is that what she said?_ she thought but did not say. The elf wouldn't understand the joke, she knew, she had tried it before. "Says the creature who towers over all the men I have ever seen." Her answer made the prince grin, what made Irony expect an elf kind of answer from him. He had taken a knack of replying to her questions and remarks by answers that were in no way satisfying and gave nothing up, no matter how you bent it. She was convinced he did that to annoy her, and laugh at her for it made her frown, and he seemed to find the way her nose wrinkled funny.

"Maybe it is everything that grows out of this forest that is smaller than it should be." he told her. And as he had probably expected, she could not help but frown at his answer. "Just like you are smaller than people should be." he added, smirking. And that last comment made Irony frown more deeply, causing her nose to wrinkle and the elf to chuckle again.

Feeling her self control abandon her slowly, Irony stopped walking, causing the elf to the same in order to grant her his full attention, though the smirk never left his lips.

"I'll have you know that for a human woman, I am taller than average." she growled. She did not know what the average height of a woman was, but if she had never been the tallest woman in a room, she had never been even close to be the smallest.

"Surely you won't hold it against me if I tell you I doubt that. Gaining a few cen-" Legolas suddenly reached for his sword and spun on himself to block a blade from shortening him from his head. A taller and seemingly much stronger elf was at the end of the threatening blade, and glared at him coldly with his dark eye, while his lips curled with excitation. He was wearing a full golden armour with green drawings; _or_ writings, Irony could not tell; all over the front of it. He was mostly clean, if not for the viscous grey liquid here and there on his armour.

Irony had been about to shriek so she was startled by the prince's brisk movement, but a not so friendly blade being pressed against her throat prevented her from doing so. It was one of those moments when the end felt so inevitable you could not even be scared of it. Still, having her hands being held roughly in her back, a cold thin beautiful sharp blade around her neck, while 4 red headed elves had their arrows pointed in her direction, was not exactly a _comfortable _situation.

Legolas did not seem to mind though. He was smirking back at the stranger who had attacked him, looking just as excited as him. "Is it my head you just tried to chop off, Commender?" asked the prince on a cruel tone.

"You must forgive me, my lord. My hands slipped." answered the said Commander with a sharp voice. The two elves glared at each other, forgetting they weren't alone, then roared in laughters before lowering their weapons and pulling one another in a tight manly embrace all the while speaking in their tongue.

That did not help Irony. She was still immobilized, and getting tired of fighting for her neck not to touch the blade's edge. Still, the residue of panic she had felt had disappeared for if Legoals was a friend of them, surely he would not let them make wholes all over her body like they seemed to be impatient to do.

A voice called from above. An elf perched on a branch jumped to meet them on the ground. He bowed to Legolas, who answered with a nod then addressed the taller elf, in elvish. Seeing the worry on the soldier's face and being unable to understand what was happening unnerved Irony greatly. By the way all the elves tensed, she knew danger was close by. Well, another danger than elves.

"Spiders?" suddenly said Legolas, his face darkening. He seemed to have forgotten she was even here.

The commender nodded to him." They were eleven of the filths, but we killed two." he said, now looking dead serious. "Nine remain. They're coming this way." He continued speaking in the singing tongue for a small while, then switched to the common tongue again, after Legolas had sung what seemed to be a question. "Tauriel is out destroying their nest and has requested our help, which I granted. They have grown stronger and smarter since you have left. One of the big ones can now easily take out two of ours."

"We are too few here to fight them back right now, we should fall back immediately." Legolas told him.

"We can't." said the taller elf. "Irdhen was bitten by a snake we had never seen before. Its venom has the same effect on us as the cursed spiders bites. Every time we try to move him, it spreads more through his veins. I am afraid that if it reaches the heart, he will die."

Sounding worried, Legolas spoke to him in elvish. Irony sighed noisily hoping to catch the prince's attention, but it did not work.

(Legolas point of view)

He hadn't even exactly arrived home yet, that he was already pulled back into the never ending fight against darkness that cursed Greenwood. Conscious him and every one around him would die if they waited for the spiders to fall on them, Legolas tried to keep his cool and understand exactly what was going on.

"_What are the healers waiting for to heal him?"_ he asked the soldier who had brought the news of the spiders. The elf's face distorted into a sorry grimace.

"_There are no healers with us, my lord._"

Shocked and angered by the answer, Legolas turned to the Commender, Galdor, for this nonsense to be explained.

"The order came form your father following the death of two healers the last time we went out." offered Galdor authoritatively in the common tongue. "_It is for the best. Fighting the spiders while protecting someone has become near impossible._"

"If this one lowers his sword, I'll help." said Irony's irritated voice. Legolas suddenly remembered she was there too. He turned to her, only to see she was trapped between an ellon's chest and his blade. The soldier seemed just as irritated as the human was. The prince would have ordered for her to be released, if Galdor had not spoken first.

"_Why is it that you come back to us with a mortal?"_ asked the Commander, looking down at Irony. The commander did not dislike humans as much as his father did, but like every single elf from this realm, he was not too fond of strangers, and much like Irony did, he distrusted every one he did not know. "_Is she your prisoner?"_

That let Legolas perplex for a second. She was certainly not his prisoner any more, although that was what he was letting her think. If he was bringing her here it was both because he was not ready their ways to part, and because he thought she needed some time off the rest of the world, to rest and see that not all those who live breathe evil in and out.

"_She is..a friend_." he said hesitantly. He hoped Galdor would believe that more than he did. Well that was true enough. They _did_ joke together, laugh together and tease each other. But mostly they distrusted one another and kept their weaknesses secret so that the other would not be tempted to use them wrongly. The inconstant relationship they had puzzled the prince for he had grown to feel a lot of affection for the human, and even come to _like_ most of her defaults. Her inability to feel guilt he now saw as a strength, and the way she managed to convinced him of the most ridiculous things he thought impressive. "_But it is best she is treated like a prisoner for now._ _I'm afraid she would try to run away and get lost in the forest, if she does not feel threatened to stay."_ To that Galdor raised brow, suggesting that the prince's last argument needed more clarification. "_She is silent as you and I when she walks barefoot. And sneaky like a mouse too._" added Legolas, hopping this would be enough of an explanation.

"_It does not tell me __**why**__ you brought her here."_said Galdor sounding unsatisfied.

Reluctantly, the prince articulated a few words. " _She had an Orthanc stone, and kept it away from Azog, Bolg, and Jagah. Other orcs are still after her for it. Also, it seems men from a village in the White Plains wants to gut her."_

"_Where did sh-"_

"Are you two really going to have a conversation **now?!**" rudely interrupted Irony. "When there are monstrous spiders closing on us and a dying elf somewhere?"

Galdor raised a brow at her disrespect but did not seem too offended for she was right. They had no time waste.

"If she says she can help, let her." told the prince to the Commander. "_But give her a weapon under no circumstances. She might slit Irdhen's throat with it."_

At that Galdor eyes filled with more questions about the human. He seemed hesitant to command her release, but eventually did. Between abandoning Irdhen, dying protecting him, killing him so that he would not be eaten alive, giving the benefit of the doubt to Irony seemed like the better option.

Legolas was not sure what he would have done if the Commander had ordered her dead instead, for elves in golden armour only answered to his father and the Commender of all guards _before_ they answered to him. The small unit of elves he had trained himself were the only one who answered to him above anyone else. And of course, he could always count on Tauriel to defy his father and take his party, but the elves of her guard would still die for Galdor if he asked them do.

_Tauriel..._He felt a small pinching sensation when he thought about her. Then the pain was gone and replaced by joy at the thought of seeing her, his _friend_, again. He had missed her badly at the beginning of his adventure and had hated her a little for not loving him back. But eventually, like he had hoped the pain had lessened and he had accepted the fact that the dwarf was who she had chosen to share her love with. What did _not_ mean he had accepted the dwarf himself.

Irony was pushed not so nicely by one of the soldiers to incite her to move towards where Irdhen had been laid down. The fellow did not look half as good as Legolas had hoped: he was sweating and inhaling sharply, and there was a big lump full of a black poison on his left arm. The veins around the foul wound were five times the size they should be and the dark liquid slowly filling them could be seen through his white skin.

Without even looking impressed, the woman knelt near the elf and pushed her hair back to examined the wound without being bothered. She poked the swollen area with care not to hurt Irdhen, who whined nonetheless. Then she lowered her hand to her boot. When her hand reappeared, there was a long knife in it.

All the elves present, including Legolas readied themselves to jump on her. One of them was faster and kicked the weapon out of her hand. The prince sighed in relief for Irdhen, wondering when she had gotten herself a dagger, and for how long she had had it. He also thought that the kick she had received would bruise her badly and was sorry for it.

To Legolas' relief, Irony was not a fool and knew better than to panic or try to flee her captors. The woman slowly raised her hands above her head, where everyone could see them, and turned to the aggressive elves. "Relax." she told them, incredibly calm for someone in her situation. "I was not and will not hurt your friend." she assured them, unknowing that apart from Galdor and him, at best one out of all the others understood the common tongue. "I just need something pointy and clean to pierce this..._bulb_ so the poison may spill out of it." she explained. "But now that my dagger is covered in mud, I will need another one."

Galdor looked at Legolas to know if he should trust Irony. Legolas nodded to him with determination, and reluctantly, the Commender handed Irony his own dagger, holding the woman's gaze for a long second before actually letting her take it.

Judging all the tension having brought Irony this deep in the realm was causing, the prince wondered what would happen once she would be inside the castle. That is, if she was ever let in the castle, and something told him that unless Galdor vouched for her to his father, the human would have to sleep outside of the gates.

Concentrating, Irony pointed the dagger at the bulb, and pierced it while a soldier helped hold Irdhen down. Black liquid spilled on the grass, and when she pressed on the swollen skin, more poison flowed out. Irony inspected the wound again, and traced one of Irdhen's black veins with her index. Then, seemingly having understood that Galdor was in charge, Irony looked at him. "Do you have some oil? Or...any oily substance?"

"Would tree seed be fit for...whatever you need it for?" answered the Commender.

"As long it is much thicker than water, yet liquid and viscous, yes."

Galdor looked around then turned too an elleth. "_Barahel fill this with that grey tree's seed_." he ordered while handing her an empty skin. While the elleth did as she was told, Irony ripped one of her sleeves off and tied it tightly under the bite on the ellon's arm.

When she was finally given the skin, she brought it to her mouth, but Galdor prevented her from drinking it. "Do not drink it, human!" he exclaimed. "It is not poisonous to elves, but it might be for humans as it is for most animals."

Unexpectedly, Irony let her mischievous smile show on her face. "Don't worry, I'm a good girl, I know when not to swallow." she told the Commender. He let go her hand and as she started to gargle the liquid he turned to Legolas.

"_Have I implied that she did not act the way proper human woman should, somehow?_"

"_No, I do not think you did. But knowing her, I can assure you that it is best we do not ask for an explanation, Galdor. The answers she gives are oft inappropriate beyond words._"

Galdor raised a brow, then rolled his eyes and shook his head as if he had suddenly come to understand what the woman had meant, and thought it to be silly. The prince wished he had such a talent as to understand Irony's strange sayings.

Irony spit the tree seed on the ground after having gargled it for a long time, then put her lips around the wound and started sucking the poison out. None of the elves present could hide their disgust at the scene despite the fact that were averted soldiers. Irony paid them no mind and spit out the venom she had sucked in her mouth. Then she gargled tree seed again, and started sucking on the wound, and repeated those actions until Irdhen's vein had considerably reduced.

"There, it's done." she said standing up, before wiping her mouth. " What little poison is left would take a fortnights to kill him."

"Are you a healer of the race of men?" asked Galdor, impressed. Irdhen seemed to still be pained and tired from the effort, but he was not sweating any more.

"No. I learned that trick from the orcs." Irony said shrugging. Legolas cursed in his head. He had intended on avoiding to mention that. He knew she was clever enough to know that information would not help her befriend any elf, and wondered why she had let it out. Then he remembered that he had her believing she was to be punished for her crimes, he realised she was assuming all the truth would come out one way or another. "They are plenty of snakes under the grey skies."

Galdor immediately threw a look of disapproval to the prince. Smiling innocently Legolas searched for an explanation to give. But he find none. "_It is a long story._" said the prince, sighing deeply.

"Thank you for saving his life, woman. I am in your debt." the commender told Irony curtly. Irony gave another shrug as sole answer, and Galdor turned to the prince again. "_You might want to tell me all about that long story before we reach the castle."_

Galdor ordered to the others to start making for home. Taking Irdhen with them, they started walking away. Irony watched them leave as they left, then turned to Legolas, with a confused expression on. The elf smiled at her so that she would not worry about anything. And she replied by a pleasant smile. But the prince knew by the way she glanced at Galdor now and then, that in truth, she was leery and ready to react shall the commender, or even him, try any thing suspicious. And judging by the bulge in her boot, she had picked her dagger up when no one was paying her any attention. _A little fox, you are, _he thought, admiring her survival instinct.

When Galdor started walking after his soldiers, Legolas readied himself to follow him but the commender prevented him from doing so by putting a hand on the prince's chest. " _Shall I be wary of her magic_?" he asked.

"_What do you speak of ? She knows naught of magic, let alone believe in it." _argued the prince.

"_Have you ever been in contact with the black venom?_" the commender asked Legolas. The prince shook his head. He had never been bit by a spider and the thought of touching the dark liquid coming out of a wounded elf's injury had never crossed his mind. "_Simple contact with it burns the skin. Yet __**she**__ could handle having a mouth full of it. If there is no magic to it, then she is a creature of dark, and it is best she goes no further."_

"_Have you witnessed a human being in contact with this kind of venom before?_" asked the Legolas. Galdor squinted his eyes, knowing where this was going, but shook his head, and waited for the prince to speak. "_It may be that like what isn't poisonous to us can be to them, what isn't poisonous to them can be to us_."

"_You are a smart elfling, Legolas_." said Galdor, meaning his words. "_But until you can prove that this liquid is not, in fact, poisonous to humans and not just to her, I will always have both eyes on her." _Galdor looked at Irony. She was drinking her skin dry of water, pretending to ignore them very convincingly.

The commander put a friendly hand on the prince's shoulder. "_I will let her past the gates for she saved Irdhen,but I cannot guarantee you father will not throw her right back outside." _

"_I understand._" said Legolas. "_Letting her past the gates is all I should ask of you but...I have another favour to ask. I know he is your friend, but can you keep your doubts about her from my father, at least until the morrow?_"

"_Sorry, boy, but even if I agreed to keep this from my friend, I could not keep it from my kin_g." With that Galdor left. There was never a most dutiful elf on this earth than the Commender.

"From now on we're following them." he told Irony trying not to sound worried.

Irony walked passed him, then spun around to face him, and walking backwards she closed her fists and raised her middle fingers. "I told you I could be useful." she said smirking. Then she spun back around, and walked ahead of him, towards Galdor. Legolas did not know the significance of that gesture, but guessed it was meant to be offending, and so he felt offended.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, if they don't get eaten by spiders first, soon they'll arrive in the Elven King's castle. I wonder just how **thrilled** Thranduil will be about having a random human commoner over...


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